Something Worth Keeping
by slackerD
Summary: In which people underestimate Rachel and Santana inadvertently falls in love OR How dating Santana Lopez helped Rachel Berry become a badass.
1. Flow Charts Are Never Wrong

**Chapter Title:** Flow Charts Are Never Wrong  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, slight Brittany/Santana, brief appearances by Puck, Finn & Quinn, mentions of Puck/Santana and Rachel/Finn  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> How Rachel and Santana began dating  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~2,400  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> implied spoilers for 2x01

The first day of summer is awesome. Two months of freedom from Coach Sylvester and three months away from the hellhole that is McKinley.

Santana spends the day doing nothing, just her and Brittany. It's mostly just sex and lounging, but it's the perfect start to the summer.

That night, Puck, of course, has a party. It's a haze of alcohol, music, dancing and Britt. She wakes up naked, tangled up with Brittany, and no memories of how they arrived in the blonde's bedroom.

The next two weeks are more of the same. Spending the day with Brittany and partying at night is the best way to spend a summer in Santana's mind.

Then one day Brittany is nowhere to be found and she's not answering her cell. Santana shrugs and figures Brittany is on vacation with her family and forgot to tell her again.

Except now, Santana doesn't know what to do with herself. She ends up hanging with Puck because he's usually the most entertaining. But that only lasts a week because Santana can only take so many hours of watching Puck and Finn play video games.

She tries Quinn, but Juno spends her time either working out or brooding and it's totally ruining her summer vacation buzz. She only lasts three days at the Fabrays'.

She's thankful when Friday rolls around and she can drink to distraction again.

It's still a haze of alcohol, music and dancing, except this time her partner isn't her blonde best friend.

For the fifth Saturday in a row, Santana wakes up hung over in a bed that is not her own. However, like the previous four, three at Britt's and one at Puck's, Santana's not quite sure where she is.

She just hopes it's not Finnocence's. She can't take any more of his drama. Or worse, Fabray. Santana is positive she doesn't want to deal with the gay panic.

Except when she brushes the long dark hair away from her bedmate's face, she sees one Rachel Berry. Which is a whole different sort of drama, or at least that's what Santana expects. A feeling of dread rising, Santana quickly finds her clothes and heads to the bathroom.

However, Berry is dressed and downstairs by the time Santana exits the bathroom. Nonetheless, she tip toes down the stairs, hoping to sneak out.

"You want some coffee?" Berry calls from the kitchen.

She does, so she decides to just face the music and get it over with.

Berry is dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. She sets a cup of coffee in front of Santana.

"Black, right?"

Santana nods and waits for the speech to begin. Instead, Berry sits with a cup of her own and grabs an orange from the fruit bowl on the table. She gestures to Santana to help herself.

Santana spends a few moments watching Berry peel the orange, before the diva speaks.

"I'm going to ask that we keep this between us. Which I'm sure you will. I'm not the sort of conquest a person like yourself brags again. Nonetheless, I'd rather Finn not find out. We're already in a somewhat awkward moment in our relationship and I don't believe this will help, despite the fact that this is the second weekend he's ditched me at Noah's party."

Santana gives an internal sigh of relief. Away from school, Berry is less melodramatic, it seems.

"Not a problem, Berry," Santana replies. "Thanks for the coffee."

"You want a ride?" Berry asks quietly.

"It's not a big deal."

"I promise I won't sing."

"Fine. Whatever."

Berry puts both cups in the sink and runs upstairs. She's back a minute later, fully dressed and Santana does a slight double take, mildly impressed with the speed. She follows Berry into the garage and gets into the passenger seat of the car.

Berry keeps her promise and simply turns the radio on. It's set to NPR which also surprises Santana. But Berry quickly changes it to an oldies station.

When Berry pulls into the Lopez driveway, Santana suddenly feels a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks for the ride."

"Listen," Berry says. "I know we're not friends or anything, but if you ever want to stop by and hang out, feel free."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because apparently Brittany's on vacation while Puck and Finn are obsessed with their stupid video games."

"I'll think about it."

Santana climbs out of the car and slams the door shut. She lets herself into the house and glances out the window. Berry is staring back; she gives a half wave and reverses out of the driveway.

**…**

Santana tries fighting it, but she's back at Berry's on Tuesday. They watch a movie and then Santana flips through the channels while Berry does some chores. She sings quietly to herself as she does so and Santana finds she doesn't mind like she thought she would. In fact, despite fighting it, Santana finds herself returning daily. It's mostly just watching something, though Berry does try to engage her in other activities, but Santana always refuses. She appreciates the offer even if she'll never say so. But what she really appreciates is that Berry never pushes. The bulldozer Santana's used to seeing is put away for the summer.

Berry still has voice lessons and dance classes, but they're usually in the morning and Santana never manages to drag herself out of bed until noon. So by the time Santana is dropping by, Berry has already been up for hours and simply lets her in.

When Santana asks why Finn is never around, Berry explains that all he wants to do is play video games with Puck. They usually go out in the evening and come back to Berry's after.

"That's unexpected on your part, Berry," Santana tells her.

"Yes, well, I'm trying to be a bit more relaxed about things."

"How's that going?"

"About as well as you'd expect," Berry replies.

**…**

Santana isn't sure exactly how it happens, but the continued exposure to Rachel Berry somehow merges into friendship. She can think about going over to Berry's and not feel dirty or guilty. In her own home, Berry is a bit saner and doesn't annoy Santana nearly as much as she used to. It's refreshing.

Santana can't pinpoint the date, but eventually she stops thinking of her as Berry and instead thinks of her as Rachel. And when she realizes this, it's not as terrible as she once imagined it might be.

In fact, she kind of likes it.

**…**

It's the beginning of August and the last week before the Sue Sylvester Boot Camp starts up again, so Santana has every intention of making it the best week ever. Puck's agreed to have a huge blow out on Friday to commiserate the occasion and Rachel promised they'd have a good time during the day.

However, when she shows up at the Berry residence, Rachel doesn't greet her. Even if she's not on the first floor, Santana will always announce her presence and receive a hello in response. Today, nothing.

Santana heads up to Rachel's room to investigate. She finds her still curled up in bed, covers over her head.

"Jeez, Berry," Santana says, seeing this. "Did Streisand's cat die or something?"

"Barbra Streisand doesn't have a cat," Rachel replies. "Finn broke up with me."

"Ah, crap," Santana says. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

Rachel scoots over and makes room for Santana on the bed. Looking over, it's obvious she's been crying, but Santana's thrown off because she doesn't _sound_like she's been crying.

"I think I got all my crying out last night," Rachel says, as if she knows what Santana is thinking.

"Well that's good."

"I've decided this is the last time I'm letting Finn Hudson into my life in a romantic capacity. I'm not sure I can handle being dumped again."

"You've given him more chances than I ever would've."

"Yes, I've come to a similar conclusion. Especially since he failed to mention that _I_was not the one to take his virginity. You were."

"Yeah…I'm sorry about that Berry."

"It's fine, Santana," Rachel replies. "He and I weren't together at the time. The only thing I'm upset about is the deceit. After all, I told him that I didn't give myself to Jesse. I feel that would have been an excellent time to share information about his virginity or lack there of."

"How long have you known?"

"Since the night you and I, uh, had sexual relations. It's why I was drunk."

"He told you?" Santana is flabbergasted.

"No. Of course not. Kurt let it slip."

"How did he know?"

"Brittany told him."

"Ber-Rachel, I'm sorry. I really am."

"It's fine, Santana, really," Rachel assures her. "I think the reason it hurt so much was that we'd just made love for the first time the night before. If he had simply told me… but after that I couldn't completely trust him anymore and I didn't feel comfortable having sex again. Between that and my newly created trust issues, the relationship didn't stand a chance."

"Well it still sucks."

"That it does."

**…**

Friday night, Santana has no issues being friends with Rachel and having other people know about it. She especially wants Hudson to know for reasons she can't quite fathom yet.

They both drink, though Rachel has considerably less than Santana. But for the first time all week, it's obvious that Rachel's in a good mood. Santana's glad, even if it's only under the influence of alcohol.

They get a ride home from the DD, Quinn "no fun" Fabray. At least that's the nickname they give her once they're both dropped off at Rachel's.

"Did you see her expression?" Santana laughs loudly.

"She really doesn't like me, does she?"

"She's just jealous," Santana assures her. "Usually if B's not around it's me and Q, but you, she never thought she'd be losing me to you. You know?"

Rachel nods so furiously that Santana's afraid she's going to hurt herself.

They settle on the couch with water bottles and Triscuits because Rachel swears it helps with hangovers. Santana doesn't care. She's having a good time.

**…**

Santana wakes up naked in Rachel Berry's bed. Again.

She _knows_this the minute she opens her eyes. But just to be sure, she lifts the blanket and looks. Yep, they're both naked.

And cuddling. Not only did Santana have sex with Rachel again, they're also apparently spooning.

This has been a very odd summer.

"You can say that again," Rachel groans.

Shit, did she say that out loud?

"This is becoming a regular occurrence, Ms. Lopez," Rachel says.

Rachel sits up and reaches on the floor for clothing. She tosses Santana her shirt as she pulls on her own. So even though their lower halves are bare, they can at least present the illusion otherwise.

Neither says anything, though.

Finally after five minutes of silence, Rachel slides out of bed and pulls her jeans back on. "I'm going to make some coffee."

Santana nods and gets dressed as well, following Rachel to the kitchen.

Just as before, they sit at the kitchen table drinking coffee as Rachel eats fruit. Only this time, Santana's worried about losing a friend more than anything else.

When Rachel's finished with her fruit, a banana this time, she finishes her coffee and looks Santana straight in the eye.

"I think we should date."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"Need I remind you of the state we found ourselves in a mere ten minutes ago?"

"Sex isn't dating, Rachel," Santana says.

"It is to me," Rachel insists. "Besides, I've been thinking about it all week-"

"You have?"

"-and according to the flow chart, graph and outline I made, it makes perfect sense."

"Wait a minute," Santana says. "You made a flow chart, a graph and an outline? When? We've spend pretty much the whole week together."

"Need I remind you that you never show up before noon?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Can we please just try it?" Rachel asks. "For the rest of the summer. And if it doesn't work out, so be it. We stop when school begins again."

Santana considers it. She does _like_Rachel. And the vague drunken memories she has, tell her the sex was awesome. A trial run couldn't hurt. Especially since it seems if it doesn't work out, they might be able to still be friends.

"You've got a deal."

**…**

They spend the rest of the day having sex sober. It's even better than the hazy memories imply. Santana's not sure if it's because she remembers or what. But as she lays there basking in the glow of her fifth orgasm of the day, she notices the sun is setting.

"Damn," Santana says. "We wasted a whole day."

"I wouldn't necessarily call it a waste," Rachel replies. "An orgasm is never a waste of time."

Santana smirks. She didn't think it was possible, but relaxed Rachel is more candid and open. She likes it. It's as if they can talk about anything and everything.

"We should make this a ritual," Rachel says.

"What?"

"Saturdays. You and me. No one else, if we can help it. Cheerios practice starts up again and we'll definitely be seeing less of each other. So if we have at least one day that's ours, maybe this'll work out."

"Yeah?"

"Santana, the one thing I've learned from my doomed romances of the past is that I some might consider me to be a bit controlling."

Santana fights back a snort.

"And I'm also not unaware of your attitudes about these things. My hope is that we can reach a compromise of sorts. Especially because I _know_ that if we continue this once school starts, you and I will _not_be walking down the halls, arm in arm."

Santana releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. It's a topic she was sure would be an obstacle, but apparently Rachel's given this a lot of thought. And if she can understand Santana's need to have Brittany around, then maybe this can work. Because that's always an issue with exclusivity; Brittany. Before, it didn't seem to matter as much. But the fact that Rachel took her blonde best friend into consideration makes Santana believe that this just might work.

Pulling Rachel on top of her, Santana kisses her long and hard until they're both breathless.

"Again?" Rachel asks. "Because I might need a slight rest."

"Not at the moment," Santana replies. "I was just thinking that this might be the beginning of a beautiful romance."

"Ahhh," Rachel murmurs against Santana lips.

They kiss again, slow and sweet, just enjoying the moment.

"Wait," Rachel says when they break apart. "Did you just paraphrase _Casablanca_?"


	2. Revelations and Confrontations

**Chapter Title:** Revelations and Confrontations  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, New Directions, Will, Sue  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> New Directions' reactions to finding out that Santana and Rachel are dating.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~6,100  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.  
><strong><br>**

Dating Rachel Berry isn't what Santana thought it would be. Granted, it's still summer, but nothing really changes in their relationship or routine. After Cheerios' practice, Santana and Brittany head over to Rachel's and hang out. Brittany will eventually go home and Santana will spend the night. Santana's mom just assumes she's at Brittany's since that's what has happened before. And because Santana doesn't want to explain Rachel, Santana lets her mother believe nothing's changed.

Brittany shows up the first day of summer Cheerios practice and greets Santana with an enthusiastic squeal. They have plenty to catch up on and so Brittany accompanies Santana to Rachel's. Santana doesn't say anything. She's not sure how to explain, but Brittany never questions, just follows her in and when Santana greets Rachel with a kiss, Brittany just waits and gives Rachel a hug after.

With school starting soon, Santana knows the inevitable relationship discussion is coming. She knows Rachel said she didn't expect them to walk through the halls hand in hand, but part of Santana wonders if Rachel just said that to placate her. Despite Rachel's behavior during their short dating tenure, Santana is still bracing herself for the return of crazy, intense dating Rachel. Maybe when school starts.

**…**

"So are you and Rachel like dating?" Brittany asks after practice one day.

"Yeah."

"Oh. Is that why you and I haven't had sex?"

"It is."

"Oh, good. I was worried you were mad at me for not being around all summer."

"Not mad, B," Santana says. "You explained it all. I just missed you."

"I missed you too."

"You're okay with me and Rachel?" Santana asks, hesitantly.

"Yeah. Besides, you seem to _really_like her. And I just want you to be happy."

Santana is relieved. Even though she and Brittany have always been relaxed and causal about their relationship, the situation with Rachel is different than any other situation. Santana is thankful that Brittany has never pushed for commitment or even seemed to want one. For whatever reason, it doesn't seem to be something Brittany wants from her.

"Wait a minute," Santana says. "What do you mean, I _really_ seem to like her? I mean, yeah, she's less annoying one on one and she's good in bed, but that doesn't necessarily mean I _really_like her."

"S, as your best friend, I just know these things," Brittany tells her. "You just need to trust me."

"Yeah, yeah," Santana grumbles. "We'll see what happens when school starts."

"You're going to stop the slushies, right?" Brittany asks. "Cause she's your girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

**…**

"So as I'm sure you're aware," Rachel says. "School resumes in a couple of days. And I'd like to discuss our relationship in relation to our approach at school."

They're currently in Rachel's room and Santana is looking around for the signs of a PowerPoint presentation.

"Fine."

"You have nothing else to say?"

Santana shrugs. "I figured you have a plan."

"Well, you're welcome to comment, of course, but I definitely welcome your input as well."

"Lucky me."

"Santana, there's no need for sarcasm," Rachel admonishes. "Very well. Let me give you my plan and then we can build off it, if you feel that's necessary."

"Okay," Santana prepares herself for some elaborate scenario involving puppy calendars, charts and coupledom.

"I don't think we should be out, just yet," Rachel says.

"What?"

"I'd rather at first that we just be friends at school, because we're never going to be walking down the halls arm in arm. Also, we don't need to eat lunch together and you don't have to walk me to class. I would, however, appreciate if the bullying stopped."

"You don't want to be out?" Santana questions.

"Not right away, no."

"Why not?"

"Our relationship has been immensely insular so far and I don't know how it's going to function in the real world," Rachel explains. "I'd like to experience that first before we add the burden of everyone else's opinion."

"What? You're ashamed of me?" Santana asks.

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "I simply know how things are. And I think they acceptance of us will be easier if taken in steps. Such as us being friends as the first step."

"Are you sure this isn't about your need for a leading man?"

"Well, I'll admit that it's diminished somewhat since I haven't found a suitable candidate. Besides, why would I need one? I have you."

"I'm way better than Finn," Santana says, smugly.

"You've certainly never lied to me, which I appreciate."

"Plus I'm smokin' hot."

"That too."

Though she likes to mock Rachel for it, Santana is very glad for her strategizing. It only takes them an hour to figure out how they're going to approach each person. This is at Rachel's insistence. And what Santana finds, grudgingly, more impressive is that Rachel seems to know how they need to approach each person and has a different strategy for both of them. Because obviously individually they'd receive a different line of attack from Schuester once he finds out. Santana will, of course, be full of malicious intent while Rachel will be a delicate flower in need of saving.

"A delicate flower?" Santana mocks. "Really? I didn't realize you needed saving."

"Everyone needs to be saved at one point of their lives, Santana," Rachel replies primly. "Besides, I'm simply predicting people's reactions and then making them sound better with my superior language skills."

Santana shakes her head. "Sometimes your modesty is overwhelming."

"Once again, I'm ignoring your sarcasm. There's nothing wrong with having a positive self image."

"Is that we're calling it today?"

"Quiet you or I'll cut you off."

"Ha! As if. You want it as much as I do."

**…**

Santana is actually nervous about the first day of school, though she'd never admit it. She picks up Brittany first, then Rachel and they head to school. She walks into school, pinkies linked with Brittany and chatting with Rachel. They part company once they pass Rachel's locker and the Cheerios head to theirs.

She and Rachel acknowledge each other in the halls and in class, but the interaction is limited. However, Santana does start making it know that bullying Rachel will have serious consequences. She knows it might take a bit, but Santana will make sure Rachel is left alone. She at least owes her that much.

"You owe her that and more," Brittany says. "Being she's your _girlfriend_."

"Would you stop that? And Rachel isn't demanding all that," Santana tells her.

"Lucky you," Brittany replies. "Who would've thought that you'd be the one to relax Rachel Berry?"

"Actually, I think she's the same, just hides it a bit better now."

"She's a pretty good actress then," Brittany comments. "Cause she seems like a different person to me."

"Seriously, B?" Santana asks. "Because she still uses six words when only one is needed, plans obsessively, talks about Broadway and breaks out into song randomly."

"Yeah, but she's calmer about it."

"I'm not sure that makes sense, B."

**…**

Rachel sits at lunch with Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie. She's quiet, letting Kurt and Mercedes dominate the conversation with first day back gossip.

"So they big glee news of the day is your apparent friendship with our resident bitch," Kurt says to Rachel.

"Please don't call her that," Rachel replies. "And it shouldn't be that big of a surprise. We hung out a bit over the summer."

"So?" Mercedes asks. "Santana Lopez at McKinley is a different beast than she was over the summer."

"It is a bit strange," Tina adds.

"Though I hear that there'll be no more slushies allowed," Artie volunteers.

"That'll be a refreshing change," Rachel comments.

The other four just stare at her.

"What?"

"We just figured you'd demand the slushies end," Kurt says.

"Demand seems like a strong word."

"And yet an accurate one," Artie says.

"Perhaps," Rachel replies. "However, all I did was make a request."

"Oh is that all?" Kurt asks. "What if she hadn't?"

"Well, she did, so why worry about it?"

"Because you're Rachel Berry," Kurt tells her.

"I'm not sure that's a valid argument," Rachel replies. "Truthfully, I don't know. It would have been dealt with if necessary."

"Rachel Berry doesn't have a contiguity plan?" Mercedes asks. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Shouldn't you be glad?" Rachel questions. "Don't you guys hate it when I do that?"

"Hate seems like such a strong word," Tina says.

**…**

The first glee back is a mix of surprises and the usual. Will has to pinch himself to make sure he isn't seeing things when he notices Santana and Rachel sitting next to each other and looking civil. Seeing Quinn back in her Cheerios outfit is also a bit jarring.

It probably doesn't help that Finn keeps glaring back at Santana. It's partly the reason he constantly messes up each time they attempt to dance. Of all people, it's Kurt who finally loses his temper.

"Finn! Stop staring at them and pay attention!"

Finn is shocked. He looks around and sees everyone with a similar expression on their faces. "Sorry guys."

This time he concentrates and they manage to make it through the whole song. Practice continues without any other incidents.

However when Santana _and_Rachel are dragged out by Brittany, everyone else can only stare after them in disbelief.

**…**

It occurs to Rachel as she wipes cherry slushie off her that she didn't get slushied on the first day. She wonders what changed today. She knows Santana had been putting the word out to leave her alone because she'd been avoided by most of her usual tormentors. When they saw Rachel in the halls, they moved away quickly.

At least she still brought an extra outfit; she hadn't thought the slushies would stop cold turkey.

Rachel doesn't look up when the door opens, just continues to clean up.

"You're not mad at Santana, are you Rachel?" Brittany asks.

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because you got slushied."

"Santana didn't slushie me, Britt," Rachel replies. "I fully expected them to continue for a while. Not because I don't trust Santana, but because it's difficult to immediately change the behavior of the herd."

"Oh. Good. Do you need any help?"

"Actually I believe I'm okay," Rachel says. "I just need to change."

"Okay. I'll go tell Santana you're not mad."

"Did she send you?"

"No. But she was worried."

"Tell her if she really feels that bad, she can make it up to me later," Rachel says.

"Okay," Brittany replies. "Wait. Does that mean we're not going to hang out later because you guys want to have sex?"

Rachel just smiles. "We can hang out for a while, Britt."

"Are you sure?" Brittany asks. "Because Santana gets very cranky when she doesn't get sex. Trust me."

"I do. But not hanging out with you makes her cranky too."

"That's true," Brittany nods. "Okay. See you later, Rach."

**…**

The jock that stupidly slushied Rachel shows up the next day with a black eye, a broken leg and his jaw wired shut.

Everybody leaves Rachel alone after that.

**…**

The glee kids find out on accident. One morning, a few weeks into the school year, Kurt and Mercedes are looking for Mr. Schue and walk into the choir room to find Rachel straddling Santana on the piano bench. They're only making out, but its still enough for Kurt to go running out in horror.

Santana looks over Rachel's shoulder at Mercedes while she's looking back at them in shock.

"What?" Santana growls.

"Nothing. I just-have you seen Mr. Schue?"

"Not lately."

"It's not what you think, Mercedes," Rachel says.

"I'm not thinking anything," Mercedes replies quickly.

"It's perfectly natural to make out with one's girlfriend before school, don't you think?" Rachel continues.

"Of course it is," Mercedes tells her. "I was just-wait a minute, girlfriend?"

"We're dating," Santana replies. "Got a problem with it?"

"No. No. Of course not," Mercedes says. "Okay. Well, later then." And Mercedes backs away slowly out of the room.

"Well, now we don't have to tell people," Rachel says.

"Hope you're ready."

"Do we have a choice?" Rachel asks. "Besides, the same could be said for you."

"Babe, I'm Santana fucking Lopez. This school is lucky I even show up."

"Plus you're smokin' hot."

"You know it."

**…**

Will can only stare after Kurt and Mercedes' retreating figures. Apparently, Santana and Rachel were making out in the choir room _because_their dating. For a brief moment he was sure he was dreaming. Once he establishes he's not, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

He seeks out Sue. She's in her office, reviewing a recent performance.

"Sue, we need to talk," he says walking in.

"Do we, William?" Sue replies. "Finally going to throw in the towel, are we?"

"Whatever little scheme you've got planned, cancel it," Will tells her. "Having one student take down another is just cruel and wrong. I won't stand for it."

"Judge me all you want, William, but I do what I need to, to survive. Nothing less, nothing more."

"Well, I won't let Rachel be hurt again. Santana needs to stop this, Sue, or else."

"Threats, really?" Sue replies. "Pathetic. Really pathetic."

"I'm warning you, Sue," Will says from the doorway. "End this." And then he scurries down the hall.

**…**

Oddly, Coach Sylvester is the first one to confront either of them about their relationship.

Santana is called into her office, alone. This is never a good sign.

"I've heard something very interesting, today, Lopez," Sue begins. "And it needs to be discussed. Now."

Santana nods and waits.

"Is it true that you are _dating_the glee midget?"

Santana tries not to visibly cringe. She'd been hoping to have more time before this confrontation occurred. A bottom rung Cheerio must have overheard something and ran straight to Sue. When Santana figures out who it was, they're going to do squat thrusts and suicides until they pass out; she doesn't care if she's not captain.

Trying to be nonchalant, Santana shrugs. "She's good in bed."

"But _dating_, Santana?" Sue presses. "That doesn't seem necessary. Especially for you."

"It's the only way she'd put out on a regular basis."

"She's simply trying to crawl out of the basement of mediocrity," Sue says. "And instead she's going to drag you down."

"Hardly," Santana scoffs. "We barely interact at school. If we hadn't been caught making out, no one would have known."

Sue ponders this a moment. "And how did you manage that?"

"I'm that good."

"All right," Sue says finally. "But I will be evaluating this affair on a regular basis. Dismissed."

**…**

"We need to talk, girl," Mercedes says pulling Rachel in the bathroom with Kurt.

"Must we?" Rachel replies as Kurt locks the door. "That's a fire hazard Kurt."

"This is far more important," Kurt replies.

"Fire safety is very important-"

"We need to talk about you and Santana," Mercedes says.

"Really?" Kurt is flabbergasted.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"This is going to crash and burn," Mercedes tells her.

"Fire and brimstone," Kurt adds.

"I actually started looking for other signs of an apocalypse," Mercedes continues.

"Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?" Rachel asks.

"No," Kurt replies. "We're being realistic. She's a Cheerio and you're…you."

"I'm aware."

"She crushes people like you under her heel and then laughs."

"That was last year."

"I know Finn can be a bit thoughtless, but dating Santana seems like jumping straight into the fire," Kurt says.

"I realize how it looks," Rachel replies. "But I assure you, it's fine. And no offense intended, but why do you suddenly care?"

"I'm not in the mood for any of your relationship drama at the moment is all," Kurt tells her.

"I suppose I can understand that."

"And maybe we care about you a little," Mercedes says, nudging Kurt.

"Fine. I also don't want you to get hurt again because you've decided to start dating a lying liar."

"Well. at least Santana won't kill pour innocent chickens to humiliate me," Rachel replies.

Kurt and Mercedes just gape at her.

"Yes," Rachel says. "Well this has been informative, but I really do need to be going."

After unlocking the door, Rachel flounces out.

"The four horsemen will be galloping through the halls very soon," Kurt says.

"We should call our parents and tell them we love them before the world ends," Mercedes agrees.

**…**

"RuPaul, really, Santana?" Quinn says when she sits down at lunch. "Getting a bit desperate, aren't we? It was bad enough when you were being civil towards her, but this? This is unacceptable."

"Luckily, I don't need your permission," Santana snaps.

"What about the Coach's?" Quinn smirks.

"It's been discussed."

"I bet."

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Q," Santana snaps.

"Embarrassed?"

"Hardly," Santana replies. "I'm so awesome, it doesn't matter who I date, I'll still be popular. But more importantly, my girlfriend puts out. She's not some stuck up prude like some people."

"Some of us have standards."

"Or you're frigid," Santana shoots back.

"Well, at least I don't stoop to messing around with Man Hands," Quinn mocks. "You can't get much lower than that."

"She's way better in the sack than you'll ever hope to be."

"You _would_value that."

"I'm young and hot," Santana replies. "What else is there?"

"Hey guys," Brittany says, sitting next to Santana.

"Hey, Britt."

"What are you guys talking about?"

"And what does Brittany think about this ridiculous development?" Quinn asks.

"I'm fine with it," Brittany replies. "What development?"

"Santana and Treasure Trail," Quinn tells her.

"Oh, that. I'm fine with it."

"But what about you and Santana?" Quinn asks.

"What about us?" Brittany returns. "She's my best friend."

"The problem is, Q," Puck says sitting next to Quinn. "You're too uptight."

"God, Quinn," Santana says. "Even _Puck_gets it."

"Hot chicks are always something I get," Puck tells them.

"You're a pig," Quinn says.

"Whatever, baby mama, you still took a ride on the Puckerman Express, so you're not one to talk."

"Do not call me that again," Quinn tells him. "Or I will kick you in the balls. Every day until you stop."

"She would too, Puck," Brittany adds.

"Whatever, Fabray," Puck mutters. "Though you'd be less uptight this year."

"Ha," Santana scoffs. "She'll never get that stick out of her ass."

"That sounds really uncomfortable, Quinn," Brittany says. "How do you sit down?"

"It's figurative, Britt," Santana tells her.

"Oh. Okay."

**…**

"What are you doing?" Finn asks, after grabbing Rachel on the way to lunch.

"Going to lunch."

"With Santana," Finn hisses. "She's only going to hurt you."

"You don't know that," Rachel tells him.

"Have you seen her and Brittany? They haven't changed one bit. They're totally still doing it. She's just using you."

"Just because she acts the same around her best friend, doesn't mean she's using me."

"God, Rachel, listen to me," Finn says. "I know we're not together anymore, but I still care about you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh? That's interesting," Rachel replies. "Because you know what Santana did for me already this year, which you certainly never did? She got people to leave me alone. I haven't had a slushie thrown in my face since the second day. And that was only because he was trying to get back at Santana. I certainly haven't received one since. You never once stood up for me."

"That's not true," Finn protests. "I stood up for you lots of times. It's just, you were never around."

"And all those times I was around and you didn't stand up for me?" Rachel questions. "How am I supposed to interpret those?"

"Those guys are my friends, Rach. I didn't want them to think I was some whipped, pathetic wuss."

"Except you are Finn," Rachel says. "You're just whipped by your need to be popular."

"Santana's done plenty to you in the name of popularity," Finn points out.

"At least she didn't lie to me for months."

"What?"

"You remember when you and I talked about Jesse?" Rachel asks. "That would have been the perfect opportunity to share that you were no longer a virgin."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you slept with Santana."

"What? No, I-"

"Don't bother," Rachel snaps. "I can't believe I gave myself to you."

"It didn't count," Finn insists. "Once it was over, I knew it didn't count. You and I, _that_counted."

"And yet you broke up with me over sex," Rachel continues.

"Are you mad that it was Santana?" Finn questions. "I was just so sick of everyone looking down on me for it, so I jumped at the first chance I got."

"I don't care who it was with."

"And we weren't even together," Finn points out.

"I know."

"So you have no right to be angry with me."

"I have no right to be angry with you?" It is obvious, even to Finn, that Rachel is quietly seething at the moment.

"I mean, would you have slept with me if you'd known? I couldn't tell you."

"So you just wanted to have sex? I can't believe you. Did you even love me?"

"Of course I did. I still do," Finn replies. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"How am I supposed to trust you? You just admitted that you lied to get into my pants. I don't even know you."

"Of course you do," Finn says. "I'm the same guy I've always been. This information shouldn't change anything."

"You're right about one thing. You are the same guy you've always been. That's the problem," Rachel says. "I need to go, Finn." And Rachel pushes him backwards and walks away.

"Rachel," Finn calls. "C'mon, Rach, don't be like that."

**…**

Will has spent most of last period watching Rachel and Santana's interaction, or rather their lack of interaction. For two people who claim to be dating, they barely acknowledge each other's existence in class. It raises warning flags. So Will has Santana stay after class to talk.

"I'll get right to the point, Santana," Will begins. "I want you to stay away from Rachel."

"No offense, Mr. Schue, but you're not mine or Berry's father, so you don't really get to make those sort of demands."

"Rachel needs someone looking out for her here," Will tells Santana.

"Yeah. You're doing a bang up job so far, Mr. Schue," Santana scoffs.

"This from one of her main torturers."

"Yeah. So? People can't change?"

"Of course they can," Will replies. "But I have my doubts about the followers of Sue Sylvester."

"Your issues with Coach Sylvester aren't my concern," Santana replies. "Rachel has forgiven me and that's what matters."

"Rachel can be too trusting," Will says.

"Did you give this speech to your golden boy?" Santana asks. "Because he's hurt Rachel plenty over the last year. Did you jump to her defense back then?"

"The difference is intent," Will shoots back. "Finn didn't have the spiteful objective you always seem to have."

"Yes, being thoughtless and inconsiderate is much better."

"He cares about her," Will replies.

"And I don't?" Santana asks. "If this was just a roll in the sack, why would I go through all this? I don't have any problems finding sexual partners. I mean, just look at me."

"Santana."

"Look, Mr. Schue, I'm sure Rachel appreciates your concern, but there's no reason for it. She and I haven't gotten along in the past, but we worked it out and that's all you need to know."

"I'll be watching you," Will tells her.

"That doesn't sound too creepy or anything, Mr. Schue," Santana replies. "Are we done?"

Will sighs. "Yes we're done."

**…**

Because of Mr. Schuester's little talk, the halls are mostly cleared by the time Santana reaches her locker. They have glee this afternoon, so she just stuffs her things in her locker. She'll get her books later.

"Whatever you've got planned, it's not going to work," Finn tells Santana as he walks up behind her.

"Like usual, I don't know what you're talking about. Nor do I care," Santana replies.

"Whatever you're doing with Rachel has got to stop," Finn says.

"Jealous?" Santana sneers. "I'll tell you one thing, Berry's a lot better in bed than you. Even her first time and, as I'm sure you're not aware, she's a screamer."

Finn growls at her.

"Plus she does this thing with her tongue-"

Santana finds herself pressed up against the lockers.

"Gonna hit me, Hudson?" Santana smirks. "You know you want to."

"You deserve it," Finn tells her.

"Why? Because I took away your v-card?" Santana mocks. "Or because I took your girlfriend?"

Finn's fist slamming into the locker just left of Santana's head echoes loudly in the hallway.

"Feel better?" Santana taunts. "This has been fun." She pushes him away. "But I'm going to find _my_girlfriend and see if she wants a quickie before glee. Later loser." And Santana walks away leaving Finn fuming behind her.

**…**

When Will arrives for glee that afternoon, he drags Rachel outside for a talk. Literally.

"Mr. Schuester, this physicality is unnecessary. If you wanted to talk, you simply had to say so."

"I'm worried about you, Rachel," he tells her.

"Whatever for?"

"Santana, really?"

"Mr. Schue, I am fully aware that as a teenager it may seem that I have impaired judgment, but let me assure you, it's fine."

"How can you trust her?" Will asks.

"That's between she and I," Rachel replies.

"You have to know it's a plot," Will continues. "Her and Coach Sylvester are up to something. They're still trying to destroy me-us-glee."

"You are certainly entitled to your opinion," Rachel tells him. "But not everything is about you or glee. Sometimes things just happen."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, Rachel," Will says.

"I'm sure you believe that, Mr. Schue," Rachel replies. "But if that was really true, my life would be significantly different. I think what you mean is that you don't want me to be hurt by anyone working for Coach Sylvester. I realize that she most likely started this little war you have going, but that doesn't mean you have to continue it."

"Rachel, my issues with Coach Sylvester aren't the problem here-"

"Are you sure?" Rachel questions. "When you found out I was dating Noah, you didn't say anything. And he's thrown dozens of slushies at me."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because," Will says. "Because Puck is Puck and Santana is _Santana_."

"That isn't an argument."

"Because I'm fairly certain Puck's only goal was to get into your pants," Will tries. "Where as Santana's goal is most likely more sinister and cruel."

"So you're worried about what? My feelings? But not my virtue?"

"I'm confident that if you weren't comfortable with something Puck proposed, you would say so," Will tells her. "But Santana will have no problems manipulating you into some twisted and vicious situation."

"So you weren't concerned because Noah isn't as intelligent as Santana?"

"That's not what I-stop twisting my words, Rachel," Will sputters.

"I'm simply trying to understand, Mr. Schue," Rachel says.

"I just want you to be careful," Will tells her. "Approach this cautiously."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" Rachel questions. "That is always sound advice."

"Rachel, I just-"

"Mr. Schue, I hate to be rude," Rachel interrupts. "But we're wasting valuable glee time out here."

Will sighs. "I suppose you're right. Just…be careful."

"Thank you, Mr. Schue." And Rachel flounces into the room ahead of him.

**…**

Everyone tries to look occupied when Rachel and Mr. Schuester enter. They'd all heard the muffled argument outside, but no one could make out what was being said; though they all have a pretty good idea what the topic was.

Rachel enters first, followed by Mr. Schuester. Rachel looks her usual exuberant glee self, while Mr. Schuester looks a bit downtrodden.

Instead of sitting, Rachel stands at the front of the room and waits for everyone's attention. When they quiet down, she motions to Santana, who reluctantly joins her.

"It's apparent you've all heard. And I cannot handle any more confrontations, so let's just get it over with. If you have an opinion about our relationship, now is the time to voice it. After this, I will simply walk away."

Puck raises his hand.

Smiling, Rachel says, "Yes?"

"If you're ever looking to toss a little meat in, let me know. The Puckasauras knows how to show girls a good time. S knows."

"Puck that is completely inappropriate," Will says.

"I appreciate your disgusting candor, Noah," Rachel says. "But I'll have to decline."

Puck shrugs. "Your loss."

"Definitely _your_loss, Puckerman," Santana snarks.

"Yes, well, thank you for that, Santana," Rachel says. "Anyone else?"

Mike raises his hand.

"Mike?"

"Does this mean Rachel and _Santana_will be singing all the leads now?"

Snickering fills the room.

"Real funny, Chang," Santana says.

He just smiles and shrugs at her.

"Anyone else?" Rachel asks.

"Just sit down already, Stubbles," Quinn calls out. "Leave it to you to find another way to draw attention to yourself."

"The name calling stops now, Fabray," Santana growls. "That goes for everyone. They stop now or else."

"Santana," Will interjects. "I won't tolerate blatant threats."

"Then maybe you should have said something similar," Santana shoots back. "You done, babe?"

"I believe so, yes," Rachel replies. "I suppose we can sit down."

Rachel laces their fingers and leads Santana to the empty chairs next to Brittany.

"Okay. Now that that's figured out, should we start?" Will suggests.

**…**

Thankfully, the others stop questioning the relationship out loud. Rachel's not delusional enough to think they don't discuss it outside of her presence. But they don't bring it up to Santana or Rachel.

They do, however, bring it up with Brittany.

Kurt has Brittany join him, Mercedes, Tina and Artie for lunch one day to question her. It doesn't yield the results Kurt is hoping for. Because of her solitary summer, Brittany didn't see the evolution of the relationship. She simply tells them that Santana likes Rachel.

"Well we did figure that out," Kurt tells her. "We were looking for more dirt."

"Have you tried outside?"

"Why?"

"That's usually where I find dirt," Brittany replies.

"Brittany," Tina says. "Kurt was hoping for more specific details about Santana and Rachel."

"Oh. I don't think I have any."

"Aren't you and Santana still best friends?" Mercedes asks.

"Of course," Brittany replies. "But we just go to Rachel's after school and hang out. And then sometimes Santana will stay while I leave and sometimes she won't."

"That's it?" Artie asks.

"How often does Santana tell Rachel to shut up when she's talking too much?" Mercedes asks.

"Never," Brittany replies.

"Never?" Kurt reiterates.

"Never. But Rachel doesn't talk that much."

"Wait, what?" Kurt asks.

"I do most of the talking," Brittany continues.

"Are we in the Twilight Zone?" Artie asks.

"Thanks, Brittany," Tina says before Kurt suffers a heart attack. He's clenching his chest in shock.

"Okay. Bye guys."

"What the hell is going on?" Kurt manages.

"Maybe we should just drop it," Tina says.

"T's right," Mercedes says. "Besides, I'm sure it'll all be revealed soon enough. We warned Rachel, if she doesn't want to listen to us, then there's nothing we can do."

"Maybe there's nothing to be revealed," Tina suggests.

"It's Santana," Kurt says. "There has to be."

**…**

Quinn corners Brittany one day before lunch.

"So, B, tell me the truth," she starts. "What's Santana's scheme?"

"Scheme for what?"

"Her and Treasure Trail."

"You're not supposed to call Rach that anymore," Brittany points out.

"What Santana doesn't know won't hurt me," Quinn replies.

"I could tell her," Brittany offers.

"Please don't, Britt. Just tell me what Santana plans on doing with Berry."

"They're dating."

"I'm aware of that, B," Quinn says. "But there's no way Santana would just start dating Berry when she's already got a perfectly good hot Cheerio to make out with."

"Really?" Brittany asks. "Who?"

"You, Britt."

"Oh. I don't know. Maybe she wanted some commitment."

"Once again, what's wrong with you?"

"I don't want commitment," Brittany answers.

"Why not?"

"We're in high school, silly."

"So?"

"I'm not looking for serious right now," Brittany tells her.

"Oh."

"That's why Santana and I decided sex isn't dating," Brittany explains. "Because we still like being with each other."

"You don't have to explain it to me, Britt," Quinn tells her.

"I do," Brittany argues. "I know what you think. That me and Santana sleep around too much, but how are you supposed to know what you like if you don't try stuff? Plus I'm not great at the school stuff, so I just concentrate on other things."

"Britt."

"Rachel and Santana like each other. That's all that matters. And S is my best friend, which Rachel respects and even indulges, so I support them. So maybe you can at least try to be civil to Rachel and not call her all those names anymore. Santana and I would really appreciate it."

"Fine. I promise I'll try," Quinn says. "But don't expect immediate results."

"Thanks Q." Brittany gives Quinn a hug and runs off.

**…**

Mr. Schuester asks Brittany to stop by his office over lunch. When she does, she finds him and Finn talking quietly. She knocks. They both look up guiltily and Brittany wonders what she's in store for.

"Brittany, hi," Will says. "Come in. Have a seat." She does. "Finn and I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay."

"We were just wondering why Santana is dating Rachel," Will tells her.

"Because she likes her," Brittany answers.

"I'm sorry, Brittany, but I just have a hard time believing that," Will says.

"Why?"

"Because Santana's never really liked Rachel and now suddenly she does?"

Brittany shrugs. "I guess. I wasn't there when they became friends."

"Santana has to be up to something," Finn says.

"Why?"

"Because she's Santana."

"She just likes Rachel," Brittany insists.

"Is it possible that Santana has something planned and just hasn't told you?" Will asks.

Brittany thinks it over for a moment. "No."

"Then explain to me what is going on," Finn says.

"Duh. They like each other." Brittany doesn't understand why everyone keeps asking her. It seems obvious to her.

"All right. Thanks, Brittany," Will says. "You can go."

"See you later, Mr. Schue. Finn." And Brittany skips out.

**…**

Rachel is pushed into Coach Sylvester's office by two Cheerios as she walks by.

"Yentl."

"Coach Sylvester."

"It seems you've managed to corrupt one of my protégés. This is simply unacceptable. Especially because from what I can see, you're nothing special."

"Santana seems to think so."

"She does indeed," Sue agrees. "And now all I have to do is figure out, why."

"I'm quite flexible and willing to experiment in bed," Rachel replies, primly.

"Yes, that would do it," Sue agrees. "Girl is driven by her libido. She's worse than Mohawk in that regard."

"Perhaps."

"Still, I'll be keeping an eye on you," Sue continues. "Whatever plot you have, isn't going to work."

"I'm not plotting anything."

"You do have that doe eyed act down, I will say that," Sue says. "But don't think for one minute that I'm falling for it. There's a schemer's brain in that little head of yours and I don't trust you one bit."

"I could say the same about you, Coach."

"Remember. I'll be watching you, Rosalyn."

"Noted," Rachel says before leaving.

**…**

"People are weird," Brittany announces to Santana and Rachel as the three of them study that afternoon.

"What makes you say that?" Rachel asks.

"Everybody keeps asking me what you guys are doing," Brittany answers. "And I tell them, dating, duh."

"It just took everyone by surprise," Rachel explains.

"That's because they don't see you guys like this," Brittany says, gesturing to how closely Rachel and Santana are sitting, legs tangled together. "If they did, it'd make sense."

Rachel and Santana look at each other and then back to Britt.

"No way," Santana says.

"Absolutely not," Rachel agrees.

Brittany sighs. "Okay. But if people keep bugging me about it, I'm going to start taking pictures to show people."

"Just don't tell Noah," Rachel says. "Or he'll ask for naked ones."

"He won't if he knows what's good for him," Santana growls.

"Ahhh, protective San is so cute," Brittany says, pulling Santana in for a hug.

"I am not cute," Santana grouses.


	3. Cuffed

**Chapter Title:** Cuffed  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, New Directions, Will  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Kurt notices something odd about Santana.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~3,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None really.

Kurt is the first one to notice it. He's sitting in his second period class, not really paying attention. He really could care less about Teddy Roosevelt at the moment. He catches movement in his peripheral and turns his head slightly to catch some sunlight hitting something metal on Santana Lopez's right wrist. She's doodling in her notebook, so Kurt feels comfortable enough to out right stare as he tries to figure out what it could be. It's nearly impossible because the Cheerio is still wearing her letterman jacket; which is odd. Kurt is pretty sure he's never seen her wear it around school. Plus, even though it's winter in Ohio, it's pretty warm; the administration keeps the school pretty hot during the winter. Kurt wonders if Figgins is stealing energy from somewhere; considering the constant budget problems the school seems to be under, Kurt is surprised daily that the building isn't an ice box.

It takes a good ten minutes of staring before the combination of light and shadows allows Kurt to make something out. It's metal, definitely, almost like a bracelet. And then Kurt nearly falls out of his chair when he realizes. It's a handcuff. Santana Lopez has half of a handcuff still around her wrist.

Kurt's mind goes places he never wanted it to go. His imagination is just a little too vivid and so he's hit with several images of naked girl parts and he involuntarily shudders.

Now that he knows what it is, Kurt tries not to stare. But it's like trying to not think about elephants or whatever.

Well, that explains why she's still wearing her jacket inside.

He tries to come up with scenarios that would lead to Santana Lopez showing up to school with just one handcuff on her right wrist. The fact that she's trying to hide it implies it wasn't planned.

He spends the rest of the period torn between counting down the minutes until he can confer with his cohorts and speculating about the events that led to Santana wearing just _one_handcuff.

**…**

The second the bell rings Kurt is out of his seat like a rocket. He quickly dials Mercedes.

"You've got Mercedes," she answers.

"You will not believe what I spotted around Ms. Lopez's wrist during second period."

"Probably not," Mercedes agrees. "That girl is full of surprises."

"She has on…just one handcuff."

There's silence on the other end and Kurt briefly wonders if he lost her. The signal's usually pretty good in the halls, but there have been dropped calls before.

"Just one handcuff?" she asks finally. "That's weird."

"Exactly. It looks like the other end was broken or ripped off…like maybe in a hurry, like someone got caught unexpectedly," Kurt speculates.

"So what?" Mercedes replies. "You think she's trying to hide it because she was using it with someone she shouldn't be?"

"Or maybe she's just hiding it in general," Tina adds as she joins Kurt in the hall. "Sounds kind of embarrassing to me."

"I never would've thought Santana would let someone handcuff her."

"Girl never says no," Mercedes tells him. "From her own lips."

"Still," Kurt replies. "She doesn't seem like a bottom."

"You sound like you've thought about this a lot," Tina points out.

"Hell no," Kurt says. "Except for the last twenty minutes of second period; once I figured out what it was, I couldn't _not_think of it."

"It's statistically proven that once an idea is planted in your head, especially one you're not comfortable with, it _will_become an obsession," Artie adds.

"See," Kurt says. "It's not my fault."

"Hey, guys," Rachel says, walking up to Tina and Kurt. "What's going on?"

Both Kurt and Tina hang up their phones guiltily.

"Nothing."

"Not much."

"Right…" Rachel says. "If you don't wish to tell me, it's fine. I'm certainly used to it by now."

"It's not that," Mercedes says, appearing on Kurt's left. "It's just that we were really talking about nothing. Well, not _nothing_. It's just Kurt was explaining…"

"Explaining why my dad chose to give me the vehicle he did," Kurt finishes. "Because while it might seem simply that it's a flashy car, which it is, there's more than that. As a mechanic, he probably took a lot more things into consideration than the average parent of a high school student. First, there's safety-"

Rachel holds up her hand. "Okay, I believe you. I was actually wondering if any of you have seen Santana today?"

"Technically, I saw her in history," Kurt replies. "But it's not like we talk."

"Right. Yes, of course," Rachel murmurs. "Very well. Thanks for your help." And Rachel flounces down the hallway.

"That was close," Tina says.

"Tell me about it," Kurt agrees.

The trio continues their trek down the hall to the AV room.

"What the hell, guys?" Artie asks as they enter.

"Sorry," Tina says, leaning in for a kiss. "Rachel appeared out of nowhere. Kurt and I kinda panicked."

"So Rachel doesn't know?" Artie questions.

We didn't ask," Kurt replies.

The warning bell rings.

"All right," Kurt says. "We have an assignment. Pay attention. See what you can figure out about this situation."

The others nod.

**…**

Mercedes and Tina are conferring the girls' room during fourth when Rachel enters. Mercedes stops mid word as the door slams shut.

Feeling awkward, without knowing why, Rachel says, "Hello."

"Hey."

"What's up, Rachel?"

Still looking uncomfortable, Rachel replies, "Just wanted to wash my hands. It is flu season, you know and this school is a prime breeding ground for various bacteria and-"

"That's super," Mercedes interrupts. "Well, we'll see you around." She pushes Tina towards the door.

"Bye," Tina manages before the door slams shut.

"Well, that was just odd," Rachel mutters.

**…**

At lunch, Artie, Tina, Mercedes and Kurt huddle together at a table.

"I caught a glimpse of it during fourth," Artie says, quietly. "It's definitely a handcuff. But it's just the cuff. No chain or anything."

"How does that happen?" Mercedes questions.

"Wire cutters, maybe?" Tina suggests.

"Well then, why didn't they cut through the cuff too?" Mercedes asks.

"Probably the cuff was too tight," Artie replies. "The wire cutters have to be kind of thick to cut through and the blade probably wouldn't fit."

"Why are we keeping this from Rachel again?" Tina asks. "It might have been her."

"No way," Kurt says. "They've only been dating for three weeks. There's no way they've moved onto the kinky stuff yet. Assuming they're even having sex. Rachel doesn't seem like the type to give it up so fast."

"Maybe," Tina agrees. "Maybe not. But lately, she seems a little less intense, doesn't she?"

"True," Mercedes acknowledges. "But I just assumed Santana was making her tone it down."

"Making her how?" Artie asks.

"Don't answer that," Kurt says. "I already have enough traumatizing images in my mind to scar me for life."

"So who do you think it was?" Mercedes asks.

"Brittany was naturally my first guess," Kurt replies. "But once again, I can't see her handcuffing Santana. Same with any of the Cheerios."

The other three nod in agreement.

"What about Puck?" Tina asks.

"I thought those two were avoiding each other this week," Artie volunteers.

"They are," Kurt nods.

They spend the rest of lunch naming possible candidates and coming up empty.

"I still don't understand why you're so sure it can't be Rachel," Tina says.

"My lovely step brother to be talks way too much about his dating experience that was Rachel Berry," Kurt answers. "I'm simply drawing conclusions from the evidence I have."

"But isn't that like comparing apples and oranges?" Artie asks. "Finn and Santana are similar only in the sense that they're both in glee and have hair. Surely dating each of them would be a different experience."

"Yes, but if Rachel's the same, why would that matter?"

"This is giving me a headache," Tina announces. "We should just ask Rachel."

"We can't," Mercedes replies. "Just in case it's not her. I don't want to upset the girl. Can you imagine the fall out? We've had enough drama."

"And it's not Rachel," Kurt adds. "Trust me."

**…**

Both Rachel _and_ Santana are in Tina's last class of the day. Sitting in the back, she's able to easily observe them. She's never really thought about it, but the pair doesn't really act like they're dating. Brittany and Santana are still BrittanyandSantana; walking down the halls with their pinkies linked. Sure, seeing Rachel around red and white uniforms, _not_covered with slushie is starting to becoming a regular thing. But remembering the way Rachel used to glide down the hall attached to Finn or Jesse, makes Tina wonder if the whole dating thing is just weird elaborate April Fool's Joke.

Even now in class, the two are sitting nowhere near each other. Seating isn't assigned, so that can't be the reason. And people constantly switched desks, so that wasn't an excuse either.

Though watching Rachel take meticulous notes, Tina supposes it could be that Santana is currently sitting in the back row not so discretely texting.

However, when the bell rings, Rachel and Santana exit the room separately, not even acknowledging each other. Tina tries to remember if the couple is fully out in school. Maybe they only came out to glee and are keeping it concealed for the rest of McKinley, especially since tolerance at this school is nonexistent.

But once again, Tina is surprised when she exits the classroom to cat calls and whistles. Looking around, Tina sees Rachel and Santana in front of a row of lockers making out. There goes that theory.

Tina just shakes her head. She knows she and Artie aren't normal per say, but her limited dating history gives her no basis to understand Rachel and Santana's relationship.

**…**

Artie, Tina, Kurt and Mercedes are sure to arrive early to glee. They been spying and brainstorming all afternoon and they just can't seem to figure out who put the handcuff on Santana. Tina had suggested just asking.

"Oh? Well, then you ask her, T," Mercedes tells her.

The look of pure panic on her face is so comical, Kurt almost falls out of his chair laughing.

"So that's a no, then," Mercedes says.

Tina nods in defeat.

Oddly, Santana and Brittany arrive before Rachel does. They speculate that the pair was going to make out before anyone else arrived, because the look of disgust Santana gives them when she notices their presence makes them all shrink away.

"I thought dating Rachel would make her nicer," Tina stage whispers.

"It's only been three weeks," Kurt replies. "Give it time."

"What are you losers staring at?" Santana snaps.

"Someone's a little testy," Mercedes mutters.

"Wouldn't you be, if you had to hide a handcuff all day?" Kurt asks.

"There's something I never thought I'd hear," Artie says. "Especially out of your mouth."

"Ditto," Tina agrees.

"I agree," Kurt says. "It's been a traumatizing day."

"Hey," Finn says as he sits next to Kurt. "Why are you traumatized?"

"Uh…girls, just girls in general," Kurt stammers.

Finn looks confused for a moment before replying, "Yeah, I guess I get that."

Before anyone else can comment, Mr. Schuester enters looking haggard with Rachel trailing behind him.

"Today I think we should work on our choreography," Mr. Schuester suggests. "Our singing is in great shape, but I really want our dancing to be fluid."

"I thought we were going to work on a new song today, Mr. Schuester," Santana says.

Mr. Schuester nods. "We were, but Rachel and I talked about it. She convinced me that our routine could stand to be a little tighter."

"Oh, did she?" Santana mutters.

Rachel just turns and smirks at the Cheerio.

Everyone stands and lines up. Mr. Schuester motions Brad the piano player to start when Finn interrupts.

"Hey, Santana, aren't you going to take off your jacket?"

"Why should I?"

"Are you feeling all right, Santana?" Mr. Schuester asks. "You never dance in your jacket."

"I'm fine."

"Are you cold?"

"I _said_, I was fine," Santana snaps. "Just drop it."

Looking slightly offended, Mr. Schuester nods and Brad begins playing.

They're half way through the song when Mr. Schuester stops them.

"What'd you mess up now, Finessa?" Puck asks.

"I'm not even supposed to be doing anything right now," Finn protests.

"It's not Finn," Mr. Schuester says.

"That's a first," Santana says.

"Does anyone else hear that?" Mr. Schuester asks.

"Hear what exactly?" Rachel questions.

"I thought I hear a clinking noise."

Everyone stands still and listens.

"I don't hear anything, Mr. Schue," Rachel says.

"Me either."

"Fine. Try it again from the top."

This time it's Finn that stops them. "I hear it now, Mr. Schue," he announces.

Everyone stands still once more, quiet falls over the room again.

"Maybe it's your jacket, Santana," Rachel suggests, smirking at her girlfriend.

"I'm sure it's not, Rach," Santana spits out, her expression pinched.

"She might be right, Santana," Mr. Schuester says. "Do you mind taking if off just in case?"

Santana growls, but eventually nods. She removes her jacket and throws it at the nearest chair.

"Thank you."

"What's that around your wrist?" Finn asks.

"It's nothing," Santana tells him.

"Really?" Puck grins. "Cause it kinda looks like a handcuff."

"Why are you wearing a handcuff?" Finn asks. He turns to Kurt. "Is this some sort of weird new fashion thing I'm not going to understand?"

"Dude, don't be a moron," Puck tells him. "Seems someone decided to get a little kinky and lost the key. Tsk, tsk, Santana. You know better than that."

"Shut up Puckwad. I wasn't the one that lost the key."

Only half the room looks at Rachel. The other half looks at Brittany. The blonde just shrugs while the diva crosses her arms and stares back.

"Um, well, right then," Mr. Schuester says after the awkwardness becomes suffocating. "Why don't we try it again? I think we can all ignore the clinking noise, now that we know what it is."

"Exactly," Rachel agrees. "We mustn't let ourselves be distracted by the deviant behavior of _some_people."

Kurt gasps under his breath. "I knew it," he murmurs. "I told you guys it wasn't Rachel."

"Don't act like it wasn't _your_ idea, Berry," Santana retorts. "Not to mention, _you're_the genius that lost the key."

"I did no such thing, Santana," Rachel replies. "You're the one that set it on my desk. It's not my fault that it wasn't there after."

Puck whoops as he smirk becomes lecherous.

"Too much information," Kurt whimpers.

"Bad, wrong images," Mercedes agrees.

"Hot," Mike says.

Finn turns away and begins muttering to himself.

"I think the rest of this discussion is best left for another time," Mr. Schuester announces.

"I don't know, Mr. Schue," Quinn says. "I think _I_have a few more questions."

"Careful, Q," Santana growls.

"Why didn't you just buy another pair and use _that_key?" Kurt asks.

Santana sighs. "Trust me, we tried that."

"Apparently the handcuffs they sell are completely different than police issued handcuffs," Rachel informs them.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop for a full minute before Puck asks, "Why do you have police issue handcuffs?"

"Because, Noah," Rachel replies. "After doing a bit of research, I found that the handcuffs they sell in sex shops to be lacking. So I found something better suited to my needs."

"Does anyone else find that mildly creepy?" Mercedes asks.

Kurt, Tina, Artie, Quinn and Matt all raise their hands. After a moment, Finn does as well.

Rachel huffs and places her hands on her hips. She seems ready to begin a tirade in her defense.

"Oh, hey!" Brittany interrupts. "I can help."

"How?"

"I know how to pick locks," Brittany volunteers.

"You couldn't have told me that this morning, Britt?" Santana groans.

"I forgot," Brittany replies. "Does anyone have a paper clip or something?"

Mr. Schuester grabs a paperclip from the packet of sheet music he brought in with him and hands it to the blonde.

Brittany has Santana sit and hold her wrist out. They all watch in fascination as the blonde unbends the paperclip and precedes to dig in the key hole. After a minute or so, she lets out a triumphant, "A ha!" and the cuff falls to the ground.

Santana rubs her wrist as Brittany picks the cuff off the ground.

"Good," Mr. Schuester says, clapping. "Now can we please try practicing-"

"Actually, Mr. Schue," Puck interrupts. "I have a few more questions."

"I don't believe it would be a wise venture to ask them, Noah," Rachel says. "I have a feeling you wouldn't like the response."

Puck looks over at Santana who is being restrained by Brittany. He gulps. "Maybe you're right, Berry," he replies. "The floor's all yours Mr. Schue."

"Thank you, Puck. All right, everyone positions."

**…**

When glee is over, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie watch as Brittany and Santana link pinkies and exit right behind Rachel. Kurt notices Santana staring at the diva's ass and shudders.

Once everyone else is gone, Artie says, "It's always the quiet ones."

"In what world is _Rachel Berry_quiet?" Kurt asks.

"Well, maybe she's not quiet," Artie agrees. "But she's…"

"It's the sweaters and skits," Tina interjects. "It makes her seem just a little too Catholic school girl like."

"Wouldn't that make her seem naughtier?" Mercedes questions.

"Either way, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to scrub _those_images out of my brain," Kurt says. "If I wasn't gay before, I definitely am now."

"So you're saying that Rachel and Santana made you _more_gay?" Mercedes asks.

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"I didn't think that was possible," Artie quips.

"Ha ha," Kurt replies. "Just remind me to keep my eyes trained away from those two. Today was very disappointing, gossip wise."

"We just need to pick better targets," Mercedes tells him as they stroll out of the choir room.

"Or we could stop gossiping," Tina suggests.

"Blasphemy," Kurt replies.


	4. Physics and Golf

**Chapter Title:** Physics and Golf  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Kurt, Finn, Brittany  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck decides he and Rachel should be bros.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~2,600  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Very minor spoilers up to 2.01

"Remind me why I'm doing this again," Rachel says.

"Because doing it will make you epically awesome," Puck replies. "Almost as awesome as the Puckerone."

They're standing on one end of a soccer field next to a stolen golf cart.

"I have no respect for you when you call yourself that Noah."

"You're just jealous."

"Shouldn't I have a helmet at least?" Rachel asks.

"They're golf carts, Berry," Puck replies. "They go 25 MPH at most. You don't need a helmet. Now I know it doesn't have seatbelts, but I think you're old enough to keep your arms and legs inside the cart when it's moving."

"Fuck off, Puckernone."

"Whoa, Berry, seems your girlfriend is rubbing off on you," Puck snickers. "Hot…"

After the handcuff incident, Puck decided he and Rachel should be bros. Though Rachel still thinks he's just hoping to worm his way into a threesome.

Santana was suspicious as well. The first time Rachel told Santana she was hanging out with Puck as bros, the Latina almost immediately sought him out. Finding him at his locker, she'd slammed Puck into the metal door while ignoring his leer.

"Listen here, Puckerman," she said. "You make one move on my girl and I will cut off your manhood with a rusty spoon and _then_set you on fire. Got it?"

"Jeez, paranoid, much, Lopez? What's wrong with two hot Jews just hanging out as bros?"

"When one of them's you? A lot."

However, after the first evening of action flicks and beer went rather smoothly, almost everyone just accepted that Puck seemed to be telling the truth for once.

Which is why Rachel finds herself being pushed into a stolen golf cart at eleven on a Friday night. She wishes they were watching more movies instead. She can handle the excessive violence and flimsy plots, but playing chicken with golf carts? Against Kurt of all people? Definitely ridiculous.

**…**

"Remind me why I'm doing this again," Kurt tells Finn on the other side of the field.

"You said tonight's activity was my choice, since you picked last time."

"I thought since you said we were hanging out as bros, you meant brothers," Kurt groans. "I should have known you meant otherwise."

"Why couldn't I have meant both?" Finn asks.

"And does _she_really have to be here?"

"They were already hanging out tonight, too. I thought the four of us could have some fun. Rachel's cool. You just need to give her a chance. Besides, she makes the teams even."

Kurt sighs. "Well, I will admit, she's mellowed somewhat since her and Santana have permanently damaged my corneas by constantly making out in the hallway."

"That's the spirit," Finn says, smacking Kurt on the back.

"So how does this work?"

"You each start at one end of the field and drive towards each other. Whoever chickens out and turns away loses."

"Oh, like in _Footloose_," Kurt replies.

"Exactly," Finn hesitantly says.

"What if neither of us turns away?"

"Don't worry, dude," Finn tells him. "Someone always does."

"What have I told you about calling me dude?"

**…**

"I know this isn't your usual," Puck says. "But I can't lose to Hudson and Hummel. Just because their folks are shacking up and they're doing all this brotherly bonding, doesn't mean we're less awesome. Right?"

"Whatever you say, Noah."

"Concentrate, Berry," Puck continues. "This is about pride and honor and, uh…"

"You just hate to lose."

"Who doesn't, miss I have to be the best at everything no matter what the consequences?"

"That's quite a mouthful, but I think I like that better than you just calling me Berry," Rachel tells him.

"You're so weird."

**…**

After Puck and Finn have lined up the carts just so to ensure a perfect head on collision, they walk to the center of the soccer field. Both Kurt and Rachel climb into their vehicle.

Rachel is eternally grateful that Noah told her to wear jeans. She can just imagine her skirt flying up as she drives. The thought makes her chuckle. That view would definitely make Kurt turn away.

Looking over, she sees Kurt gripping the steering wheel and staring intently back at her. She's becoming mildly concerned. She thought this was just stupid teenage thing for fun. It seems that Kurt is taking it very seriously. Rachel doesn't want to lose, so she tries to focus as both hands clutch the steering wheel.

Midfield, both Puck and Finn stand with one arm raised. Each nods at their teammate and when they both receive a nod back, their arms drop. Rachel lets her foot fall onto the gas pedal and the cart jerks forward for a moment before surging ahead.

It seems Puck was right, the cart doesn't go _that_fast. Despite the fact that Rachel's foot is now flat. It makes sense; these things just weren't made for joyrides.

Slightly hunched around the steering wheel, Rachel's eyes stare straight ahead at Kurt's. He's matching her intensity as they get closer and closer to each other. She's getting nervous; she _has_to win, but it doesn't look like Kurt's backing down either.

Finally when they're mere feet apart, both turn away. Thankfully, they both jerk to the left. The carts do brush by each other. They're so close, they could touch hands if they wanted.

However, while Kurt's golf cart has four wheels, Rachel's oddly only has three. So when she turns away sharply, but doesn't take her foot off the gas, the cart tilts and rolls as it flips itself over. It stops rolling and is now up right again, a few feet away while Rachel, who was just flattened by a golf cart, lies motionless on the ground.

**…**

Seeing Rachel just lying there, Puck panics. He does care about her, especially now that they've become bros, but his real fear is Santana. He has visions of being eviscerated or worse, castrated. Both are looking to be real concerns with Rachel unmoving on the ground.

He and Finn both charge over as Kurt notices and exits his cart.

Thankfully, before they reach her, Rachel lets out a groan.

"Oh thank god," Finn says. "She's not dead."

"It's a golf cart, dude," Puck says. "Not a car."

"So you're saying you weren't worried?"

"Of course I was worried," Puck replies. "But I didn't think she was dead."

"Guys!" Kurt interrupts. "Maybe you could help Rachel."

"Should be move her?" Finn asks. "Isn't that supposed to be dangerous?"

"Finn, I'm fine," Rachel says. "Just sore." She sits up slowly. "I told you we should have just watched movies."

"No way, dude," Puck says. "This is way more epic. I _knew_you were an awesome choice for bro."

"Hey!"

"Sorry man," Puck tells Finn. "But tell me this wasn't epic."

Looking at Rachel's cart, Kurt says, "There's a science extra credit project somewhere in this."

"Yeah," Puck agrees. "But who wants to bother?"

"Normally I would volunteer," Rachel says. "But I'd rather just put this whole incident behind us."

"Definitely," Kurt agrees. "Santana might kick my ass for even participating."

"Guys, don't be ridiculous," Rachel says. "I'm fine. Santana will freak out for a moment when I tell her, but when she sees I'm fine, it'll blow over."

"It better, Berry," Puck replies. "Because if she comes after me-"

"You'll run and cower behind Rachel?" Kurt offers.

"You're lucky I like you now, Hummel," Puck replies. "Or I'd mess up the mop on your head."

**…**

They end up at Puck's house. His little sister is at a friend's for a sleepover and his mom is already asleep. So they basically have the house to themselves.

There's beer of course. Finn and Puck easily finish a six pack while Kurt has one and Rachel has half, under protest. Puck quickly finishes the can when the diva begins complaining that it isn't helping with her soreness.

"I think you need to drink more than half a can," Kurt tells her.

"She never drinks, though," Finn points out. "It shouldn't take much."

"It's fine," Rachel says. "I'm switching to water. Alcohol isn't the proper way to treat discomfort."

"Are you sure?" Finn asks. "It always makes me feel less uncomfortable."

"I'm not sure that's quite the same thing, Finn," Rachel tells him.

"Beer totally fixes everything," Puck interjects.

"Yeah, for about five hours," Kurt says. "And then you sober up and realize you got the president of the celibacy club pregnant."

"_Dude_."

"Oh. Sorry Finn."

**…**

When Rachel finally arrives home, she's exhausted and sore. She changes for bed and crawls in. She's supposed to call Santana when she gets back. Since it's only the fourth time hanging out, Santana's still suspicious of Puck's motivations. Having similar thoughts, Rachel easily agreed. However, she currently doesn't want to deal with her girlfriend's reaction. So instead sends a text.

_Santana. I'm extremely worn out and need sleep immediately. I'll call you tomorrow. Good night._

Hitting send, she sets her phone on her night stand and curls up in bed.

**…**

The next day Rachel is woken up by a pounding on the front door. Groaning, she blinks and checks the time. 12:14 p.m. That's much later than she usually sleeps, even on a Saturday. But a person should be allowed to sleep in every once in a while.

Grumbling, because the pounding hasn't stopped, she stumbles out of bed and heads downstairs to answer to front door.

Angrily, she swings it open. "What?"

Standing there, mid pound, is Santana.

"Oh good," Santana deadpans. "You're not dead."

Rachel leaves the door open and heads back up to her room, knowing Santana will follow. The front door slams shut and she feels her girlfriend's eyes on her ass as she ascends the stairs.

In her bedroom, Rachel flops back onto her bed.

"So you've been sleeping this whole time?" Santana asks, joining Rachel in bed.

"I have," Rachel replies. "Why?"

"Because I've been calling and calling," Santana tells her. "I had visions of you being severely maimed because of something stupid Puck made you do last night."

"Well, as you can see, I'm fine," Rachel says, curling into her girlfriend and closing her eyes. "It really was _no_big deal."

The silence that follows is eerie as Rachel realizes what she just said.

"What isn't a big deal?" Santana asks, eventually as she sits up.

"Last night," Rachel tries. She's lost her comfy pillow, so she sits up as well. "Last night's activities weren't all that enthralling."

"And what did you do last night?"

"Nothing. Just hung out."

Santana just raises an eyebrow at her.

"Okay," Rachel sighs. "Finn and Kurt were there too. But Noah said it was all part of the "bro" experience."

Santana crosses her arms and continues to stare.

Rachel just stares back. She promised Noah she wouldn't tell Santana what happened last night. Apparently being woken out of a dead sleep throws off her ability to lie.

Even if the only clock in her bedroom is digital, Rachel still swears she hears the seconds ticking away as her girlfriend stares her down.

"Fine. We played chicken with some old golf carts Noah found."

"How the hell did he get you to agree to that? Or Kurt for that matter?"

"Everyone's always saying I need to loosen up and try new things," Rachel replies. "As for Kurt? I have no idea. That was all Finn."

"Of course it was," Santana snarks. "Hummel's just lucky Finnocence is too stupid to realize the power he still has over him."

"Kurt is completely over his crush on Finn, I'll have you know," Rachel replies. "Just like I am."

"You better be."

"So that's the big secret?" Santana asks. "Puck convinced you to do something stupid? I knew it would happen sooner or later, I just assumed later."

"Part of the teenage experience is partaking in stupid shenanigans," Rachel tells her. "Participating in chicanery will be helpful later in my acting career, I'm sure."

"Not everything is fodder for your future career, you know."

"Well it should be," Rachel huffs.

"At least tell me that you at least didn't lose to Hummel," Santana says.

"No. I didn't lose."

Santana waits for her girlfriend's usual lengthy explanation. It never comes.

"So?" Santana asks. "You won?"

"Um, we never really figured it out…"

"Because?"

Rachel just stares at her hands. She can feel Santana's eyes on her, burning into her. Finally she blurts out, "."

Even though she's used to Rachel's monologues and rants, doesn't mean Santana can understand her girlfriend when she speaks all in one breath.

"Babe, could you maybe say that a bit slower?"

"We didn't decide a winner because my cart tipped and rolled over me so we were somewhat distracted."

"How the hell did you manage that?" Santana asks.

"One of the carts only had three wheels," Rachel explains. "It didn't respond well to a sharp left turn at full speed. Even if full speed is only approximately 30 MPH."

"And who was in charge of getting the carts?"

"Noah, of course, procured the golf carts. I'm not sure where he got them," Rachel says.

"He is so dead."

"Santana," Rachel says. "I'm fine. Yes, it was somewhat terrifying when it happened and for a full minute I was very concerned about my injuries, but as you can see, I'm fine."

"But you're sore."

"Well, yes," Rachel replies. "I did have a 900 pound golf cart roll over me. There's bound to be some side effects. Thankfully there seems to be no permanent damage."

"Still," Santana continues. "I think I better examine you for injuries."

"Really? We're going to play _doctor_?"

"I'm game if you are."

"_Again_?"

"C'mon, you know you want to."

"Fine," Rachel agrees. "But this time, no rectal exam."

"Spoil sport."

**…**

Monday morning, Puck is feeling good. He fully expected Santana to show up at his house and castrate him because of Friday night. But when Sunday morning dawned without a visit, Puck's confidence began to grow. And when he went to bed that night without receiving a visit, he thought himself in the clear.

He was wrong.

Just as he's closing his locker, he's grabbed from behind and slammed into the lockers.

"Lopez," he says nervously, trying to appear cool. "Change your mind about a threesome yet?"

"Listen, waste of space," Santana growls. "I already know you're an idiot, so save it. But I didn't realize you were a colossal moron too."

"Hey," Puck says. "Words _can_hurt, you know."

"Why the _hell_would you play chicken with a three wheeled golf cart? What if Rachel'd been seriously hurt, dip shit?"

"Well she wasn't, all right?"

"You're damn lucky, Puckerman," Santana tells him. "And the only reason I'm _not_ ripping off your dick and stuffing it down your throat is because Rachel actually seems to _like_being your bro."

"Us hot Jews have to stick together," he says.

"But she didn't say I couldn't do _this_," Santana replies as she slams her Biology textbook into his crotch.

Puck crumples to the ground.

"Next time, think things through a little bit more."

Brittany walks up to Santana and links their pinkies. "That seemed kinda harsh, S," she says looking down at Puck.

"He deserves it," Santana replies. "Besides it's not like it's going to affect his ability to have kids."

The pair stroll down the hall, leaving Puck curled up on the ground groaning in pain. No one else gives him a second glance.

All in all, a normal day at McKinley.


	5. The Student Becomes the Master

**Title:** The Student Becomes the Master  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Finn, Will, Figgins, Sue, Emma  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck tries to convince Rachel to be more bad ass. He succeeds a little too well.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~7,600  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None really.

"I'm just trying to help," Puck explains. "This bad assery will totally get you laid."

"Noah, trust me, that's definitely _not_a problem," Rachel replies. "Besides, Santana is bad ass enough for both of us, don't you think?"

"Hell, yeah, she is," Puck agrees. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy seeing it in others. Why do you think she slept with the Puckasauras?"

Rachel sighs. Even though it's old news that Santana and Noah were a thing, and that she herself briefly dated Noah, Rachel still hates when he brings up the fact that he slept with her girlfriend. Probably because he makes it sound so… lewd and dirty. She also hates that she's jealous of such an old and dysfunctional relationship.

"I don't know. Because you both like sex?"

"That too," Puck says. "But it's the bad boy image that drew her in."

"If you say so, Noah," Rachel replies.

"I still can't believe Santana let you come out and bro it up with me after last time," Puck says.

They're currently in Puck's truck drinking beers. Puck's had three to Rachel's less than one, but for once he's not giving her a hard time about it.

"Let me?" Rachel questions. "Just because Santana and I are dating, doesn't mean she's my boss."

"Oh really? That's not what I heard."

"Noah, stop trying to stir up trouble," Rachel says. "It won't work."

Normally, Rachel would disapprove of drinking and driving, but Noah promised three was his limit and that once they accomplished their mission, they'd head back to her place. Besides, they're mostly just parked while Noah searches out the perfect target.

Of course, he still has to talk her into it. While admittedly, she's been up for many of the "bro" activities Noah's suggested, vandalism and stealing have always been a sticking point.

"C'mon Berry," Puck continues. "You can't go through high school without doing something stupid and juvenile."

"You say that every time, Noah," Rachel points out.

"That doesn't mean it's not true. We live in an insanely small town," Puck says. "So we gotta do stupid shit to stop us from dying from boredom. Tell me, you've never been a little curious."

"Of course I have been," Rachel replies. "But it's more a curiosity of why you idiots continue your childish antics."

"Just this once," Puck says. "If you don't have fun, I won't suggest anything illegal ever again. Scout's honor."

"They kicked you out of scouts. For hitting on someone's 21 year old sister."

Puck shrugs. "Her loss. So?"

She's still not sure, but she does know that Noah keeps his promises. If she really hates it, it will never be an issue again. Rachel sighs. "Fine."

"Hell yeah."

**…**

"I was thinking this sign, here," Puck says. "Since it's your first time, it should be something easy. But I don't think the sign itself sends the right message."

They're in the Sack-n-Pack parking lot. The store's closed and the employees are trickling out.

"What message is that?" Rachel asks.

"Do not enter? C'mon, Berry."

"You cannot be serious."

"I am. Same reason a stop sign is out too."

"Or maybe it could be a sign that isn't red and white," Rachel tells him.

"Those are the McKinley colors."

"Noah, I abhor our school."

"Santana doesn't."

"Yes she does," Rachel replies. "She's just better at hiding it."

"Well, too bad," Puck says. "Because I know the perfect sign." He points to the other side of the parking lot.

"The Yield sign, really?"

"Yeah. It means slow down, but don't stop. And triangles are cool, especially equilateral ones."

"Are you trying to argue with geometry?"

"Yeah. So?" Puck is defensive.

"I just never thought you knew what geometry was."

"Shut up."

**…**

Puck hands Rachel the crescent wrench and she begins to loosen the bolts. She gets the bottom one off easily enough when they see head lights, so they duck down until the car passes. Once it's gone, Rachel loosens the top bolt and Puck catches the sign before it crashes to the ground.

They put it in the back of Puck's truck and speed off.

"So now what?" Rachel asks.

"Whadda mean?" Puck replies. "Give it to her. Put a bow or something on it, if you want."

"A bow?" Rachel asks. "I hardly think that's appropriate."

"You'll figure it out," Puck tells her. "C'mon. I've got to get my sign."

"And what sign would that be?"

"Mile marker 69, of course."

"Noah, that's like twenty miles out of town. I thought you said there wouldn't be that much driving."

"I did."

"Well, if I'd known you were planning on attempting highway driving, I wouldn't have let you drink."

"I know," Puck replies. "Why do you think I didn't tell you?"

"You're a real jerk weasel, Noah."

"Oooh. So mean. Words hurt, you know, Rach."

**…**

Noah's sign is much easier to procure. Being on the side of the highway at midnight is a bit creepy and Rachel is paranoid a car is going to come speeding along and hit them. But it's over quick; Noah has obviously done this before and they're back in his truck before Rachel really starts to panic.

"I'm not sure drinking agrees with you," Puck says on the way back. "You always get really weird when we do."

"Did you ever think it's because it's also because you're simultaneously trying to get me to do something insane?"

Puck pretends to think it over. "No. I'm pretty sure it's you."

They end up at Rachel's this time. Her dads are of course not home; workaholics are like that. After hiding the sign in her room, Rachel flops on the couch next to Puck. He's already finished a beer. Rachel grabs one out of the cooler at their feet and gingerly opens it.

"Just so you know," Rachel says. "I'm not letting you drive home drunk."

"That's fine. I can just crash in your bed," Puck leers.

"I'm sure that'll go over well."

Puck finally settles on crazy action movie. It's better than his usual horror movie choices, so Rachel just accepts it and slowly sips her beer.

"So things are going really well in the sex department?" Puck asks a bit later.

"Excuse me?"

"C'mon, Rach," Puck replies. "This is what bros do. Talk about chicks."

"Does that include talking to a former boyfriend of my current girlfriend?"

"Are you feeling threatened?" Puck mocks.

Rachel smirks. "My girl is _more_than satisfied, thank you very much."

"All I have to say is that it's a shame you and I didn't work out, you must be a freak in the sheets," Puck says.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, Santana has been such a pussy lately," Puck explains. "I figured you must be keeping her on a short leash. And since that girl has been around the block a few times, you must be something special."

"I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered."

"Definitely flattered, Rach, you know that," Puck answers. "It is my greatest regret that you never got to fully experience what's it like to be sexed by the Puckerone."

"I'm sure it's a momentous occasion," Rachel replies, dryly.

"You know the offer of a threesome is always on the table."

"Which is where it'll be staying," Rachel tells him. "When we have a threesome, it won't include you, I'm sorry to say bro."

"A shame, really. We would have some hot times."

They lapse back into silence.

Once again, it is Puck who breaks the silence. "But she treats you good?"

"She treats me very well, Noah, I promise," Rachel replies. "It's sweet of you to care."

"Yeah, well, us hot Jews have to stick together."

"I suppose that's true."

"But I've been meaning to ask you," Puck continues. "How come you don't make her walk you through the halls like we did?"

"Ah, well, that was my concession to her," Rachel explains.

"Your what?"

"I know how she feels about me," Rachel replies. "So if Santana wants to walk around the halls, pinkie linked with Brittany's, who am I to stop her?"

"You know everyone thinks the two of 'em are doing it behind your back, right?"

"As if I care what those cretins think," Rachel tells them. "They're just jealous."

"Can you blame them?" Puck asks. "You two are so hot together. And making out in the halls is just cruel."

Rachel just smirks.

**…**

Puck does end up crashing on the couch. Actually Rachel and Puck both fall asleep sometime into the second stupid movie Puck finds on cable.

Puck wakes up around four with the intense need to pee. He groans and tries to stretch only to find his movements completely restricted. Blinking a few times, he opens his eyes to find himself stretched out on the Berry couch with Rachel on top of him. Internally he curses; if Santana ever found out about this, she'd kick him in the nuts. He knows this for a fact; she's told him so.

"Rach," he tries. "Rachel. Wake up."

"No. Comfy," she murmurs.

"C'mon, I gotta pee."

"Sleeping."

Puck sighs and thinks. "And the Tony goes to Rachel Berry."

She sits up. "What?" She looks around. "We fell asleep." She slowly stands and stretches. "Come on," she says, pulling him up.

"Ah, you're not going to kick me out, are you?" Puck looks at the clock. It's like 4 a.m."

"We're going to bed."

"We are?" Puck leers. "That's hot. Too bad I'm so tired."

"To _sleep_, Noah," Rachel replies. "This couch is fine for an afternoon nap, but not for a proper night of sleep. My bed is huge. It's fine."

"Not according to your girlfriend," Puck says as Rachel pulls him up the stairs.

"What she doesn't know, won't hurt her," Rachel tells him. "Besides, we're not going to be doing anything other than sleeping."

Rachel pulls Puck into her fathers' bedroom. She opens a draw and hands him some black sweatpants and purple T-Shirt that reads _Berry-rific Family Reunion 2005_.

"You can change in here," she continues. "Come in whenever you're done." She leaves him alone.

He quickly strips down to his boxers and pulls on the offered clothes. Thankfully, Rachel's Daddy is about Puck's height, so the sweats fit just fine. The shirt he puts on feeling odd. If the shirt is to be believed, Rachel's entire extended family is crazy too. It would explain a lot actually.

After peeing, he heads towards Rachel's room and finds her pulling back the sheets, dressed in pink and black plaid flannel pants and a pink tank top with a gold star. He drops his clothes on his side of the bed as she slides in between the sheets. Puck groans as she sets her alarm clock.

"Please tell me you're not going to get up in two hours to exercise."

"Certainly not," Rachel replies. "However, I am supposed to meet Santana for brunch, and I hate to be late. Don't worry. It's not early."

"It better not be," he grumbles as he settles in.

"Good night, Noah," Rachel says. "I had fun."

"Course you did, Berry," Puck replies. "I know how to show a girl a good time."

Rachel flicks the light off and they're plunged into darkness. Puck feels slightly awkward just _sleeping_with a girl, but he's tired and buzzed so it isn't too difficult for him to drift back to sleep.

**…**

The next day Rachel meets Santana for their usual Saturday brunch. Thankfully, Puck is willing to get up and go home to crash. She's lucky neither of her fathers saw Puck in her bed. Even if they know about her and Santana, Rachel isn't sure what they'd think of their little girl sharing her bed with an ex boyfriend.

Since Rachel usually spends Friday nights with Puck, Santana spends hers with Brittany. She knows everyone thinks she's too naïve and trusting, but since Santana's more than satisfied in the sexual aspect of their relationship, Rachel feels confident that if Santana says nothing is going on with Brittany, then nothing is.

Feeling stupid, she hands Santana the sign with a big white bow on it. She hopes that the bow aspect is cute and not insane.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"I don't know," Rachel replies. "Do you think it's a stolen Yield sign?"

"Yeah."

"Then it is what you think it is."

"Why?

"Noah says I need to be somewhat bad ass. He said it's required as your girlfriend. So he suggested this."

"He did, huh."

"And I'll admit, it was sort of cool. Knowing we could easily be seen and that we were taking something we weren't supposed to. I'll admit that I had more fun than I ever thought I would doing something so juvenile and stupid."

"God," Santana groaned. "Puck is going to corrupt you until you're throwing pee balloons at people."

"Santana, that's disgusting. I would never in a million years do that."

"I'm just saying he's a bad influence."

"Didn't you just say last week, I need to loosen up?" Rachel questions. "Well here's me loosening up."

Santana glances at the sign and then back up at her girlfriend. "So you had a good time, huh?"

Rachel nods.

"You planning on doing anything else illegal?"

"I don't know," Rachel shrugs. "Maybe."

"Well, then maybe we should skip pancakes and head back to your place."

"What? Why?"

"So I can properly thank you."

"Oh. Oh! Okay."

**…**

With Santana's _very_enthusiastic response to the stolen Yield sigh, Rachel decides to see if it applies to all acts of vandalism. She stays on the lookout for something to pull.

She's exiting the girls' bathroom when she notices the precarious way the signs are attached to the door.

The next day during first period, she excuses herself and makes her way to the bathrooms. Using a screwdriver she "borrowed" from Noah, she pries the two signs off and puts the girls' sign on the boys' door and vice versa. It'll be interesting to see who actually reads the door and who just walks in.

**…**

At lunch, everyone is talking about the bathroom mix up. Rachel just smiles and nods as people talk. It seems most people just walked in without looking at the signs. But those who did take the time to look, caused confusion for everyone else.

"I just don't understand the confusion," Kurt says. "The boys have urinals and the girls don't. So if you, Tina, were to walk in and see urinals, you would simply turn around and use the other one."

"This _is_McKinley," Artie says.

"Yeah," Mercedes agrees. "We're definitely not known for our Mensa members."

"I'm pretty sure we don't have anyone who would even qualify for Mensa," Rachel adds.

"We have people who can't even _spell_Mensa," Tina says.

"Anyone know who's behind it?" Artie asks.

"Not yet," Kurt answers. "But I'm sure it'll get around tomorrow. Someone will break down and brag."

**…**

Santana has an extended Cheerios' practice, so Rachel walks home by herself and begins her homework. Her house is quiet and so she turns on her iPod and fills her room with the songs of Andrew Lloyd Weber.

She's nearly done with her paper on WWII when a rock hits her bedroom window. Annoyed, she stands and opens it.

Only to be hit in the shoulder with a small rock. Rachel sighs. She really should have expected that after the last time.

"Why didn't you just ring the doorbell?" Rachel shouts down to Santana.

"I did," Santana snaps. "I rang it like fifty times. I even held it down for over a minute. You obviously couldn't hear it over the concert going on in your room."

Rachel just shakes her head and slams the window shut. She turns down the music and heads downstairs to open the door for Santana.

"I should just give you a key," Rachel throws, walking back up the stairs.

"No way," Santana replies. "That's way too…committed."

"Actually, I just don't want to be hit with rocks anymore."

"Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. Two times."

They both settle onto Rachel's bed and work on homework.

"So it seems that someone switched the bathroom signs at school today," Santana comments once they're done.

"Oh?" Rachel asks. "That's interesting."

"It was hilarious actually," Santana replies. "We go to school with a bunch of morons."

"Well, that's certainly true."

"No one's sure who's behind it," Santana continues. "Though I have a few ideas."

"You do?"

"Seems like my girlfriend has gotten in touch with her bad side," Santana says. "My only hope is that this is just the beginning."

"It might be," Rachel answers. "Depends on the response."

"Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I like it."

"Oh?"

"Definitely," Santana replies. "It's about time your kooky brain was put to good use."

"Hey. I prefer eccentric."

"If the shoe fits," Santana says. "How long do we have the house to ourselves?"

"Till ten at least," Rachel answers. "When do you have to be home?"

"Not for many, many hours."

**…**

Days later during fourth period, Santana receives a text from her girlfriend.

_I just wanted to let you know that using the toilets in the girls' locker room this afternoon during Cheerio's practice isn't a good idea._

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, she thinks. What the hell is Rachel up to now?

**…**

She finds out that afternoon when she hears squeals of outrage coming from the stalls.

"What the hell?"

"Oh," Brittany replies. "Someone put Saran Wrap on all the toilets."

"Oh. You use 'em?"

"No. Becky and I got a text earlier telling us not to. So we went before."

"Interesting."

"It's like we have a fairy god mother for bathrooms."

"Maybe," Santana concedes. "Who was the text from?"

"Unknown number," Brittany replies.

"Why aren't you slackers on the field yet?" Coach Sylvester's voice booms.

Her answer is shouting and bitching as they try to explain that they're wearing their own urine.

"Save it! You have five minutes to be out there and ready to go or else!"

Santana looks at Brittany who just shrugs and the pair head out of the locker room.

**…**

Rachel is in her usual place, leaning against the lockers outside by the locker room. Usually she practices in the auditorium while the Cheerios practice and they'll leave together after.

"You are in so much trouble," Santana tells her.

"Whatever for?" Rachel asks.

"You and your delinquent ways are very hot," Santana replies. "Plus that skirt is indecently short. Thank god your dads work late till tonight."

"Homework, first."

"How about sex, then homework, then sex?" Santana counters. "That skirt leaves nothing to the imagination babe. I would have jumped you during third if we didn't have that quiz."

"Well I appreciate both your restraint and your desire for me sexually."

"You're lucky that I find your vocabulary hot too."

**…**

A few days later the fire alarm goes off during sixth. It's not a drill, so everyone files out and stand in the parking lot. No one can see any smoke or fire and all the chemistry projects currently happening are all non flammable.

Fire trucks are soon filling the parking lot. Everyone watches as the firefighters run inside. Twenty minutes later, they exit having found nothing.

Everyone troupes back inside, but teachers' aren't able to maintain order for the rest of the day and most eventually give up. The last period of the day becomes a free period.

**…**

A few days later the hockey team finds every single puck in the school glued together and rolling down the halls like a runaway log. Of course, no one knows anything. Interestingly, everyone's first thought is a rival school, except McKinley's team isn't good enough to invite sabotage.

Figgins makes an announcement about it the next morning. It seems he's more pissed that he has to use his already floundering budget money on replacement pucks than he is about the prank itself. In homerooms, everyone glances around trying to pinpoint the culprit as he speaks. No one takes the credit though.

**…**

About a week later, Will receives a text from an unknown number. Figuring it can't hurt to read it, he opens it.

_It would be advisable to stay out of the teacher's lounge today. Or if you must enter DO NOT sit. -a friend_

Having overheard the kids talks about these texts, he knows they're from the mysterious prankster. He'd been hoping the lack of incidents over the past week, meant the person had given up. Apparently not.

He decides there's no harm in mentioning it to Emma. His imagination has gone wild about what might be happening and he knows that Emma will want no part of it.

He knocks on her door. She looks up guiltily from her phone.

"Hey," Will says. "You got a sec?"

"I do," she nods.

"I just got the most interesting text," he explains. "I thought you should read it as well." He hands over his phone and watches her read it. She pales.

"I actually received this text as well," she tells him, holding up her phone.

Will's eyes make out, _It would be advisable to stay out_, before stopping. The situation just became even odder.

Not sure what to do, they both agree to never mention it again and separate to have lunch in their individual offices.

The squawks of outrage easily reach Emma's office, but with the door closed, she pretends to be unaware. She's just so thankful that whoever is behind all this seems to like her.

**…**

The pinnacle of the prank pulling is reached a week later when Figgins returns from his lunch meeting with the superintendent to find his glass office filled with a dozen chickens covered in red and white paint. The chicks are flying and squawking around and there is paint _everywhere_. No one knows how they got there, especially when the front office has never been empty.

The bell rings as he's trying to calm down and figure out what to do. It doesn't take long for everyone to notice something is up. And it takes even less time for the students to start gathering around Figgins' office, laughing, taking pictures and texting their friends to come see.

When the bell rings for sixth period, almost no one is in a classroom. The halls are packed with students, teachers, cafeteria staff, and janitors trying to get a glimpse of the office full of chickens.

After about ten minutes of attempting to usher everyone to their proper destination, Figgins gives up and has someone announce of the PA that school is cancelled for the rest of the day. This clears out most of the students. A few stay to take some pictures or videos before scrambling away.

**…**

Of course after all the paint has been wiped off and the chicken feathers picked up, Figgins starts vigorously searching for the culprit. The problem is that he has no leads. No one confesses. Not that he expected them to. He was instead hoping someone would look slightly guilty or extremely cocky, but they all appear innocent. Figgins is at a loss and the entire school anxiously waits to see what will happen next.

A week passes, then two and still nothing. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe whoever it is has decided to stop.

Of course the moment people begin to relax, is the moment that something happens.

**…**

The halls of McKinley feel off to Kurt. The past two months have been filled with pranks and vandalism galore. First it was just simple things like the fire alarm being pulled. And no one minded that. Because getting out of class, even for a half hour is better than nothing.

But then it was blood coming out of the showers in the boys' locker room one afternoon after practice. Of course it wasn't actual blood, just ketchup and Kool-Aid mixed together, but at the time it seemed real. Kurt only wishes he had been to get pictures of them running out and screaming like little girls. Finn said, in hindsight, it was hilarious.

There was also grape jell-o in the pool. Kurt is still a bit puzzled about that one. He didn't think chlorine would be conductive to making jell-o. He wonders if they drained the pool and just used real water, except it seems like far too of a involved process.

All the usual suspects have been questions, but half the football team and most of the hockey team is too stupid to pull it off. Coach Sylvester is always an option, but since things have happened to the Cheerios, it was dismissed. Then there's Santana, who happened to have an alibi and Puck who was actually in Figgins' office when something happened elsewhere.

The entire school is stumped and waiting anxiously for the next axe to fall.

Kurt has a few ideas since nothing's happened to glee club; usually they're the first targets. He thinks Puck and Santana are working together. Both are much more mellow since the prolonged exposure to Rachel has begun. Kurt isn't complaining because it seems to have mellowed Rachel out too. Kurt figures it's a way to maintain their reputations without having to endure a Rachel Berry lecture, which Kurt doesn't blame them for.

Just as he's about to enter the guys' bathroom, he receives a text. Sighing, he opens his phone figuring it's Mercedes with some more insane gossip.

Instead it's from an unknown number.

Apprehensive, Kurt reads the text. _If you value your clothing, I would recommend not using the first floor boys' bathroom. -a friend_

Well, now Kurt is very curious, but he also values his clothes. He wonders whom he can get to check it out. Maybe Finn. He sends a text.

_Meet me by 1st flr bthrm ASAP_

Moments later, Finn appears. "What's up?"

"I need you to go in there and check it out."

Finn looks confused. "Why? It's the same bathroom it's always been, right?"

"I don't know," Kurt answers. "Maybe. I'm not sure, so I need you to check."

"How could you not know?" Finn continues.

"I just don't. Okay?"

"Why me?"

"Because I trust you."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Kurt questions.

"I got a text before telling me to stay out or I'd regret it."

"You too, huh?"

"You got one?"

"It says if I value my clothes to stay out. But now I'm very curious."

"What are you guys doing?"

Finn and Kurt both jump. They turn to find Tina behind them.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," Kurt answers.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm going to the bathroom. See you guys later."

Kurt expects Tina to cross in front of them, but she instead waves and heads towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom, like I just said," Tina replies.

"What's wrong with the one we're standing in front of?"

"Needed some exercise, so I'm using the one on the second floor," Tina explains and runs off.

"What do you suppose that's about?" Finn asks.

"A mystery for sure," Kurt says.

**…**

At lunch, there's talk everywhere of what's happening in the first floor bathroom. Some people are warning their friends off while others are telling them to go in and then laughing at their misfortune.

"This school becomes more and more crazy every day," Mercedes says, looking around.

"What is everyone gossiping about now?" Rachel asks, sitting. "No one's pregnant are they?"

"Have you gone to the bathroom today?" Mercedes asks.

"That's a bit personal, isn't it?"

"Have you been in the first floor bathroom today?" Kurt asks.

"No," Rachel replies. "Without the slushie facials, my bathroom visits are down considerably. Why?"

"Apparently it's prank central," Artie says.

"Oh." Rachel shrugs. "Well that explains the text I got earlier, warning me away."

"You got one too?" Kurt asks, excitedly.

"D you know who else got one?" Mercedes asks.

"I believe you two would know more than me," Rachel replies.

"Hi guys," Brittany says, sitting next to Rachel. "Santana wanted me to ask if you guys got the text today?"

"About the bathroom?" Tina asks.

"Yeah."

"Apparently we all did," Rachel answers.

"Did Santana send them?" Mercedes asks.

"I don't think so," Brittany replies. "We got them at the same time. And it didn't say Santana on my phone. None of the other Cheerios got them, except Becky. Santana wanted to know if you guys got one, so she can figure it out. Okay? Thanks. Bye." Brittany jumps up, pats Rachel on the head and skips off.

"See," Kurt says. "I told you it was Santana."

"What did she do now?" Rachel asks.

"Sent those texts."

"But Brittany just said she didn't," Tina points out.

"So?" Mercedes replies. "Santana probably told her to say that."

"What is the big deal if she sent the texts?" Rachel asks.

"Because that means she's behind all the pranks around here lately," Kurt explains.

"Didn't she have an alibi for the fire alarm and the jell-o in the pool?" Tina questions.

"So? That just means she has an accomplice," Kurt says.

Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie all look at Rachel. After a couple minutes, Rachel can't stand it and says, "What?"

"You're not mad?" Mercedes asks.

"Why would I be mad?"

"At Santana for pulling all this stuff," Artie says.

"Look, you have no proof," Rachel points out. "And if she is, she's warning us out of the way. So who cares?"

"But-" Kurt tries.

"I'm not her keeper," Rachel replies. "That's Coach Sylvester."

"But you're dating," Kurt sputters.

"I am well aware of this."

"But you were so possessive with Finn and what's-his-name," Mercedes points out.

"And look how well those relationships worked out," Rachel replies.

"She's got a point," Artie says.

"I will never understand you, girl," Mercedes says.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Kurt mutters.

"As pleasant as this has been," Rachel says, standing. "You'll have to excuse me. I need to talk to Mr. Schuester." She turns and flounces out of the lunch room.

"She has to know," Kurt says.

"Kurt," Tina says. "I say this as a friend. Maybe you should just drop it."

"Spoil sport."

**…**

That afternoon in glee, everyone is still talking about the bathroom. It seems everyone in glee club received a warning text. Therefore, no one's quite sure what the joke was. And most people who experienced it, aren't willing to share. Tina thinks it's shame; Kurt thinks it's malice.

"They just want to be able to laugh at other people who go in," he tells everyone. "The students in this school are cruel jackasses."

No one disagrees with that.

"Rachel can you do me a favor?" Kurt asks.

"I don't know Kurt, what do you need?"

"Will you please, please convince your girlfriend to stop terrorizing the school? It's starting to get out of hand."

"But she's so good at it," Rachel protests.

"I think he's talking about the insane juvenile stunts, babe," Santana tells her.

"Juvenile, huh?"

"One might say that."

"Would _you_say that?" Rachel asks.

"Ladies, I believe we're getting off topic, here."

"Not really," Santana replies. "Since I'm _not_the one pulling shit."

"It has to be you," Mercedes insists. "Puck's not smart enough to have pulled off the chicken thing."

"Hey!"

"Well that's true," Santana allows.

"Hey!"

Everyone else mumbles agreements.

"You guys suck," Puck grumbles.

"But just because Puck takes the short bus, doesn't mean it's me. They are plenty of other capable people in this dump."

"Yeah," Brittany adds.

"Brittany," Kurt says. "Are you claiming responsibility for this?"

"What if she was?" Santana asks.

Because it's Brittany, everyone tries not to laugh; but there is definite snickering.

"Do we have to talk about this now?" Rachel interrupts. "As team captain, I believe we should be focusing more on practicing and not about the terror being brought down around us; especially since we seem to be immune."

Everyone just stares at her.

"What?"

"I would have thought that you of all people would want to know who's behind this," Artie says.

"Why?"

"Because you're Rachel Berry," Kurt sputters.

"Hmmm. That is a good reason," Rachel agrees. "But unfortunately, I don't."

Santana grabs Rachel and pulls her to the side. "Nice. Now they're still going to assume it's me," she hisses. "And we both know it's not."

"They wouldn't believe it's me for _one_second, darling," Rachel whispers sweetly.

Santana growls because she knows Rachel is right. Looking up, she finds everyone staring at them. Kurt and Mercedes especially, she feels like she can actually see them straining to listen in.

"I plead the fifth," Santana says.

"Hah! I knew it," Kurt exclaims.

"All right, guys," Mr. Schuester says, clapping his hands. "I hate to interrupt this little…"

"Interrogation?" Rachel volunteers.

"But we really need to be rehearsing for sectionals."

Everyone lines up for the first number as Brad begins playing.

**…**

Because of the extensive amount of time between incidents, everyone is constantly on edge. No one is immune, except the glee kids. Thankfully, no one else seems to notice this, but them. They agree to keep it to themselves; they don't want the wrath of the school on them.

Both Santana and Puck deny doing it, but no one seems to believe them. Rachel, oddly, seems indifferent. She doesn't seem to believe they're doing it, but at the same time, she isn't saying they aren't. Kurt finds this strange. He supposes it's her way of showing loyalty to her girlfriend and bro even if she believes they're behind it all.

**…**

Will doesn't know what to think. He agrees that the mastermind has to be in glee, especially after he and Emma received those warning texts, but he just can't figure out who it is. Puck and Santana, the most obvious candidates, have vehemently denied it, over and over again. Even after threats of all types, so he's inclined to believe them. But who else could it be? In his mind, the only other option is Quinn, but she seems to prefer having people _knowing_that she's terrorizing them.

So he simply hold his tongue at staff meetings. Sue tries blaming glee club, but Will counters that her Cheerios are far more cruel and devious.

"They probably learned it from you," he finishes.

This, of course, results in a massive argument that becomes a shouting match. It only ends because Figgins literally drags Will out of the room, still arguing the entire time.

Needless to say, the topic is tabled for the time being.

**…**

Rachel can admit she started this whole thing because Santana _really_ seemed to like it; _really, really_ seemed to. But now that she's almost holding the school figuratively hostage as they wait for her next move, she thinks there might be other reasons behind her continued antics. She finds it a bit intoxicating. It doesn't matter that no one except Santana knows it's her. _Rachel_knows and that's enough. It almost makes up for the really shitty way she's been treated at McKinley. Almost.

Everyone thinks that the varying amounts of time between incidents is to fuck with them. In reality, Rachel needs time to come up with ideas and then time to figure out how to pull them off. Plus lately, a lot of them require a bit of a set up time. Fucking with them is just a bonus.

**…**

About ten days after the bathroom incident, every single member of glee club receives a text ten minutes into second period.

_You should excuse yourself from class and go outside. You have fifteen minutes. -a friend_

Each and every member gathers up their things and their hands shoot in the air. The girls mostly say it's their time of the month, though Brittany cites Coach Sylvester, as does Kurt. The boys just request bathroom passes. Thankfully, no teacher finds this suspicious.

They all end up in the parking lot, wondering and waiting. Finn has somehow gotten a hold of a football, so he and Puck play catch with Mike and Matt. Artie pulls wheelies while Brittany tries to copy him in her own wheelchair. No one knows where she got it. Mercedes and Kurt are leaning against a car watching. Tina's flipping through a magazine as Quinn draws something in her notebook. Santana and Rachel are behind the car, making out.

Initially, Kurt had tried to get everyone to discuss who the mysterious texter is, but weirdly no one seemed interested. They seemed to content to simply reap the benefits.

A moment later, Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury exit the school. Everyone, except Rachel and Santana look for a place to hide.

"I assume everyone got a text?" Mr. Schuester says as he approaches them.

"You don't think the school is going to explode, do you?" Ms. Pillsbury asks.

"That seems a bit extreme," Mr. Schuester replies.

"Yes, but why else would we be asked to exit the building?"

"Apparently the sprinklers are going off."

Everyone whips around to find Coach Sylvester behind them.

"Sue," Mr. Schuester says. "What are you doing here?"

"It seems that someone out there likes me," Coach Sylvester replies. "Received a little text moments ago advising me to exit immediately. Normally, I don't follow the advice of strangers, but since the last text about the teacher's lounge proved to be accurate, I figured it would be wise to obey this one as well. Just as I was stepping outside, the fire alarms went off and the sprinklers began spraying water everywhere. Quite a mess. And imagine my surprise to find you out here with your little glee freaks. Very suspicious William, very suspicious."

"Wait a minute," Mr. Schuester says. "You were warned away from the fly paper in the teacher's lounge too?"

"I was indeed," Coach Sylvester replies. "It seems that the gods are smiling on me. I always knew it, but having such blatant evidence sometimes makes everything shine a bit brighter."

The rest of the school has joined them outside, all looking like wet dogs. When questioned why they aren't soaked, everyone says they're having a glee club meeting outside. The timing is just a coincidence. Luckily, everyone is too distracted to really analyze that statement.

Because no one can get the sprinklers to stop, school is cancelled for the rest of the day.

**…**

"Not that I'm criticizing," Santana says later in Rachel's bedroom. "But I don't understand why you texted Coach too."

"So she wouldn't take her anger out on you," Rachel replies.

Santana shakes her head in amusement.

"What?"

"Only you could manage to be adorably sweet and smokin' hot at the same time," Santana tells her.

"Well, I am _very_talented."

"Thank god for that."

**…**

Puck is getting sick of being blamed for the chaos in McKinley. Especially since he's not behind it. He has no problem accepting responsibility for the shit he has pulled. But being falsely accused, repeatedly? Sucks out loud.

He had a feeling he knows who's behind everything, but he has no real evidence. It's finding out that Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury are receiving warnings too that convinces him it's Rachel.

He was content to let it go. Everyone thinking he's behind it all is doing wonders for his rep. Girls actually approach him now and ask him out. He has to do almost no work to get laid. It's been awesome.

But after the sprinklers, Figgins pulls Puck into his office and tells them it has to stop.

"Like I told you before _and_before that, I'm not doing it," Puck tells him.

"I don't care," Figgins replies. "This entire situation is getting out of hand. If they don't stop, I will have to expel you."

"What?" Puck jumps up. "That's not fucking fair."

"Language, Mr. Puckerman. And I am well aware how unfair it is," Figgins continues. "But I have no choice. The culprit must be found. And I'm beginning to agree with Coach Sylvester that it has to be someone in glee. Since you're the most likely candidate, you're the one that will be expelled."

Puck stomps out of the office and exits the school. He goes to the parking lot and sits in his truck. He can't be expelled, it would break his mother's heart. Not to mention it would mean he's never getting out of this loser town.

It seems a confrontation is in order.

**…**

Puck decides it's easier to confront Rachel without Santana around. He figures she'll be easier to convince that way.

He literally grabs her during lunch, knowing Santana won't be looking for her since the pair don't sit together at lunch. So as Rachel walks by, Puck seizes her arm and pulls her into a corner of the lunch room.

"Noah, what is the meaning of this?" Rachel demands.

"We need to talk," he tells her.

"And you couldn't have just told me that? Must you be so secretive and aggressive?"

"Yeah, I must."

"So what do we need to discuss?"

"I know it's you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon Rach," Puck replies. "We've been bros for a while now; I know you. You're the only one who could have pulled off all this insanity without _any_one catching you. And I know you know how to keep a secret."

"Even if you were correct," Rachel allows. "Why would I stop?"

"Because your bro asked."

"But you were right, Noah," Rachel says. "Santana definitely loves me being a bad ass."

"So? You told me before that you had no problems in that department."

"I did," Rachel agrees. "But now? It's even hotter. There are days I can't even _sit_without being reminded of what happened the night before. Just last week, I almost stayed home because I could barely walk. And my wrists are definitely getting sore; thank god for toys. Not to mention my tongue is getting so much exercise. It's great for my singing."

"Oh my fucking god! You're killing me, Berry," Puck groans. "Don't tell me that shit. I've been trying to be a good bro and not think about you naked anymore. That is so _not_helping."

"Ah, Noah, that is so sweet," Rachel coos.

"Don't start with me, Berry," Puck growls. "It's because I like my nuts where they are and your girlfriend threatened to ripe them off unless I take the two of you out of my spank bank."

"I do admire her follow through," Rachel muses. "It's still sweet of you, though."

"Does this mean you'll stop?" Puck asks.

"I don't know," Rachel replies. "What's in it for me?"

"Helping out your bro, of course."

"I've been warning you beforehand," Rachel points out. "Isn't that enough?"

"Don't make me beg, Rachel."

"You mean you'd be willing to?"

"Figgins is going to expel me," Puck hisses. "He says he doesn't care if I'm behind it or not. Someone has to pay."

"He can't do that," Rachel protests. "He can't punish you just because you did stupid things in the past."

"But he is," Puck tells her. "So you have to stop."

"But I'm having fun. I finally understand the lure of delinquency, Noah."

"Awesome. Can you just limit it to bro night?" Puck asks.

Rachel sighs. She's been having fun, but the responsible side of her knows she should stop. Eventually she will be caught; her pranks are becoming too elaborate. And she's running low on ideas. But the rush of adrenaline when she's setting things up to the pride she feels when something happens without a hitch to the power she feels as the school cowers, waiting for her to strike; it's all so intoxicating.

"All right," she says finally. "But only because I don't want you get be expelled."

"Thanks."

"I have no idea where we'd find a twelfth person to fit your spot in glee before sectionals."

"Your concern for me is overwhelming."

**…**

"You should have just let him get expelled," Santana grumbles that night.

Homework first is still the rule, so they're both stretched out on Rachel's bed, studying.

"Santana," Rachel says scandalized. "Education is vital to one's survival. I couldn't let him be deprived of that."

"Yeah, but it's not your fault he's dumb enough to get caught."

"Maybe so, but I already promised, so you can't talk me out of it," Rachel replies.

"Really?" Santana leers. "There's _nothing_I can do to change your mind?"

Before her brain can completely register that statement, Santana has removed her Cheerio's uniform.

"Should I be worried about how quickly you're able to undress?" Rachel finally manages to ask.

"It benefits _you_quite nicely."

Rachel feels herself getting wet staring at her seductively posed girlfriend. "However your attempts to change my mind about Noah will not work. I promised him and I always keep my promises."

"Fine," Santana huffs. She rolls onto her stomach and resumes working on her math homework.

"You can't possibly expect me to concentrate on _Great Expectations_with you lying there like that?" Rachel squeaks.

"This is how I want to study," Santana replies. "_You're_the one that insists we do our homework first."

"You are so evil," Rachel grumbles, opening her book back up.

"And you love it."

"You're lucky you're hot," Rachel gripes as she attempts to read.

"_Yeah_, I am."


	6. Breaking Into School is Easy to Do

**Chapter Title:** Breaking Into School is Easy to Do  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Artie, Tina, Brittany  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel's idea for bro night is a big hit.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~5,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None.

It's Rachel idea actually. Artie can't believe it when she seeks him out. He never pictured Rachel as someone into video games.

"Well, does this really count?" she asks. "It is rather retro."

"That actually makes it cooler," Artie tells her.

Rachel smiles brightly and Artie is struck by the simpleness of it. Every once in a while he's reminded that there's more to Rachel than her glee club diva persona.

"So it's definitely possible?" Rachel asks.

"It is," Artie assures her. "Let me do some checking and I'll get back to you."

"Thanks Artie."

**…**

It takes over a week to get everything set up, but finally everything is ready.

Thursday finds Artie and Rachel having lunch in the choir room to iron out the final details. They figure there'll be less of a chance that anyone will hear their discussion.

"…so all you'll need to do is bring the cord down."

"What about turning it on and off?" Rachel asks.

"Extra remote," Artie says, holding it up. "I convinced the AV guys that they should have one." He tries to give it to Rachel.

"You should keep it," Rachel tells him.

"But you're going to need it," Artie protests.

"I know," Rachel replies. "But I'm bringing the console. I figure we each have our own aspect to worry about. It keeps it even, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but…you want me there?"

"Of course," Rachel says. "Unless you don't want to."

"I do. I definitely do."

"Excellent," Rachel says. "I was hoping to meet around eleven tomorrow. I just need to double check with Noah."

"Cool."

"Thanks so much for this, Artie."

"Thank me when it's working. I haven't had a chance to try anything really."

"Well I appreciate the effort either way," Rachel tells him.

"It should work," Artie says. "Hey can I bring Tina?"

"Definitely. Is she a fan?"

"She is. Plus this is something we've talked about, but never had the guts to try."

"Understandably."

"I never thought you'd be the one to ask."

"I assumed as much."

"Puck and Santana are a bad influence on you," Artie tells her.

"That is definitely true."

**…**

Rachel won't tell Puck what they're doing tonight. He isn't worried, exactly. He considers Rachel to be pretty badass now, so he figures her idea for bro night will be cool. It's just one never really knows with Rachel Berry.

However, since it involves pizza and beer, he figures it can't be all bad.

Until he pulls into the McKinley High parking lot.

"What the fuck, Berry?" he hisses.

"Park in the back corner, under the cover of trees."

He nods and does. She makes no move to get out though, so he's starting to worry a bit. Finally after five minutes, he loses it and asks, "What are we doing here?"

"Patience is a virtue, Noah," she answers serenely. And then her phone beeps. She pulls it out and reads a text. She climbs out of his truck, pulling her rolling pink suitcase behind her. Puck grabs the pizzas, one pepperoni, one vegan and follows.

They walk around to the back where Puck sees some shadowy figures. For a moment, he wonders if Rachel is getting him into something sinister. He also mentally blames her for his use of the word sinister.

When they're close enough, Puck sees it's Tina and Artie, which really peaks his curiosity. No one says anything as Rachel proceeds to pick the lock. In less than a minute, they're hurrying inside.

"I'm impressed," Artie mutters

"Where'd you learn that?" Puck asks.

"From Brittany," Rachel replies. "I had her teach me. How do you think I managed to pull off all those pranks?"

"I had no idea," Puck tells her. "I just enjoyed the resulting chaos."

They're in the auditorium. Everyone seems to know what's going on but Puck. Tina runs up to the booth and comes down with a cable. Artie and Rachel are setting up the contents of her suitcase.

They don't seem to need any help, so Puck takes one of his beers, opens it and slumps into a seat.

He's sexting with some random drunk sophomore Cheerio when he hears familiar music.

Puck looks up to find Super Mario 3 on the huge projector. Rachel and Artie each have a controller and begin playing.

"Artie and I figured we'd take turns," Rachel tells him. "You and I against him and Tina. What do you think?"

Puck just stares with his mouth still open.

"You're catching flies, Noah. I'm going to interpret this as a good thing."

"I would," Tina chimes in. "This is awesome."

"You two are fucking geniuses," Puck finally manages.

They play until they beat the entire game. Between the four of them, they somehow manage. The celebration is mostly half hearted whooping since it's almost five in the morning. They clean up the best they can and return the cord to the booth.

Parting in the parking lot, they agree it needs to happen again, so they make plans for next week.

"Super Mario Brothers 2!" Puck crows.

"No way," Artie says. "I say we mix it up."

"But Princess Peach can fly," Puck protests.

"She floats," Tina replies. "It's different."

"Zelda maybe," Artie suggests.

"That game's a bit more involved," Tina points out.

"It might take more than a night," Rachel agrees.

"So? We've got time," Artie replies.

"How about we wait and see what we feel like," Tina suggests.

They agree to meet at the same time next week.

"We'll bring the pizza this time," Tina says.

"Make sure you tell them you need a vegan one for Rachel Berry," Rachel says.

"I still can't believe you got them to make you a vegan pizza," Artie tells her.

"My tenaciousness can be very rewarding sometimes."

"She harassed them until they agreed," Puck laughs.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"That it did, bro," Puck says. "That it did."

Puck is buzzed enough that Rachel insists on driving. Plus, he can't go back to his place so late. Coming home Saturday afternoon is better because his mom is at work and he can avoid a lecture.

They've apparently come to some unspoken agreement because Puck wordlessly follows her upstairs and into her room. She digs out the exact same clothes as last time and he goes into the bathroom to change.

After changing and peeing, he heads back into Rachel's room. He finds her already in bed and he climbs in on the other side. Rachel then flicks out the light next to the bed and the two attempt to sleep.

**…**

Rachel has a lot more trouble than she's ever had waking up Saturday morning to meet Santana. Going to bed just before the sun rises makes getting up for brunch seem silly, but Rachel also wants to see Santana.

They don't see each other too much during the week. Mostly after dinner because Santana has Cheerios and glee while Rachel has glee, voice lessons and dance lessons. Saturday is _their_day. They spend the entire day together and Santana usually spends the night. Rachel never questions her girlfriend about why her parents allow it, though she suspects they don't know. Just as Santana never questions Rachel about why her dads never seem to be around.

For the first time in a long time, Rachel makes coffee before she meets Santana. She wakes Puck and tells him there's coffee if he wants. He grumbles, but starts to get up. He doesn't want Santana to find him there. She turns off the coffee pot before she goes because she doesn't trust Puck to do so and she'd like her house to not burn down.

They meet at a little café that serves vegetarian. However, like the pizza place, Rachel has convinced them to make something vegan for her whenever she's there. Since it's almost always Saturday for brunch, it's easy enough and it probably helps that Rachel tips well. Santana is still impressed because her method would have been violence and intimidation, but her girlfriend's methods seem to work just as well.

Because of her lethargicness, Rachel is running late. She's fighting the urge to drive as recklessly as Puck or Santana to compensate, but her finely ingrained instinct to put safety first wins over. She's ten minutes late.

**…**

Not that Santana's ever on time. Rachel loves her, but wishes she could be a little more punctual. Santana tells her being only ten minutes late is a big step for her. Rachel knows this and tries to not greet her girlfriend with her arms crossed and face scowling.

Today they arrive at the same time and Rachel tries to play it off as if she was just compensating for Santana's tardiness. She hopes her fatigue isn't too obvious.

"Am I boring you, babe?" Santana chuckles as Rachel yawns for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "Bro night just went a bit long is all."

"I still don't understand why you want to be bros with that… pool boy."

"Hey, us hot Jews have to stick together," Rachel jokes.

"God, you are spending too much time with him," Santana replies.

"Aren't you always telling me I need just chill out and be a teenager?"

Santana nods.

"Well that certainly happens with Noah."

"Yeah Puck definitely knows how to let loose," Santana agrees. "But Rachel Berry has her own rebellious side. It's fucking hot as hell."

"Must you curse so loudly in a place we frequent?"

"Must you ask questions that you already know the answer to?"

"Must you mock me and my impeccable language skills?"

"Must you be such a big nerd?"

This goes on for another five minutes until they're laughing so hard, they decide to leave. The odd looks they're receiving are also some incentive.

**…**

The next week they beat the original Super Mario Brothers because it seems like a good compromise between Super Mario 2 and Zelda. For the next week, they decide to come in each with a suggestion and vote.

"But won't we all just vote for our own?" Tina asks.

This observation gives them all pause.

"It's possible," Rachel concedes. "But maybe someone will bring in a game someone else didn't know about or forgot about."

"Maybe," Artie says.

"We managed to compromise this week," Rachel argues.

And they had. Five minutes of fighting is much less than Rachel expected.

"It's not as if it has to be set in stone," Rachel continues. "We'll try it next week and if that doesn't work, we'll try something else."

The other three stare at her.

"What?"

"Are you drunk?" Artie asks.

"I should think not," Rachel replies. "As designated driver, I take my responsibilities very seriously and would never over indulge."

"Hanging with Puckzilla just chills a person out," Puck says.

**…**

It's once again very late when they finish, so Rachel just drives home and Puck crashes there.

"Where does your mom think you are?" Rachel asks when Puck enters the room clad in black sweatpants and the _Berry-rific_t-shirt.

"Hanging with a bro," Puck replies. "Which you are."

"You just failed to mention that I'm female?"

"Details," Puck says. "Besides, as bros, we can no longer think of each other in a sexual manner."

Rachel stares at Puck a moment. "A sexual manner? Maybe we are spending too much time together.

"Shut up, Berry," Puck says. "I'm drunk and tired. Let's just sleep."

**…**

Oddly, Rachel's right. The next week Tina's suggestion is Die Hard. Puck and Artie both vote for it.

The week after that it's Metroid and then Double Dragon II.

"What if we run out of games?" Artie asks after they beat Ghostbusters.

"I don't know," Rachel says. "There have to be at least a hundred games."

"Way more than that," Tina adds. "Try a thousand."

"No shit," Puck mutters

"But getting hold of them, guys," Artie says. "That's the real challenge."

"We'll worry about that when we get there," Rachel tells them. "No use stressing over something so far off."

"Who are you?" Tina asks. "Did you built a robot and replace Rachel?" she asks Artie, who shakes his head.

"I just don't see the point of stressing out over Nintendo games," Rachel says.

**…**

Rachel is pretty sure that Santana is getting fed up with how tired she is on Saturdays. She hasn't said anything since the first week, but her girlfriend sighs a lot more than she used to.

Rachel feels bad, but she can't help it. Playing the Nintendo is the perfect bro night. It combines video games, drinking, and illegal activities. If she could, she'd spend every Friday night until she graduates like that. It's just become so addictive to play until they beat a game. Between the four of them, it seems entirely possible.

It also helps that Artie has started bringing his laptop and looking up cheats.

If she could just explain to Santana why, but they all swore secrecy. Having four of them is already enough of a risk. Having anyone else be present is just too perilous. Not that Santana would want to come, but if word spread…

So Rachel drinks more coffee and concentrates a little bit harder. And since the sex is still _so good_and consistent, Rachel figures Santana will most likely never voice her concerns. Rachel can live with the sighs.

**…**

It's when the beat Final Fantasy that Puck decides that he and Rachel should extend bro night with a celebratory prank. Needless to say, he's drunk. But Rachel's been itching to try something, so she goes along with it.

Of course, being Puck he doesn't really know what he wants to do. Everything he thinks up is too cliché in Rachel's mind or she's already done something similar. When he finally runs out of steam, Rachel offers her suggestion.

He jumps on it for which she's glad. The only reason she never tried this before is that another person is necessary. Rachel just hopes Puck isn't too drunk to help.

She goes to a few janitor closets looking for everything she needs, which she makes Puck drunkenly lug around. He grumbles about being a pack mule, but follows behind her anyway.

It goes off without a hitch. For once Puck doesn't question Rachel and simply follows her directions. She wonders if it's because he's drunk. They toast with a beer for Puck and a bottle of water for Rachel before sneaking out.

**…**

The only problem with the celebratory prank is that it takes some time. When they arrive at the Berry residence, the sun is rising. However, their routine is set and so they go through the motions without thought. The pair fall into bed after Rachel closes the blinds and they easily fall asleep.

**…**

Only to be woken up with _a lot_of cursing and Puck being pushed onto the floor.

Rachel blinks wearily, trying to find the source of the disturbance. She finds her girlfriend fuming, fists clenched, apparently just barely holding it together.

"_What the fuck_?" she growls.

"We just sleeping, Lopez, relax," Puck grumbles from the floor.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth," Rachel tells her.

"Then why was he wrapped around you like a damn blanket?"

Sitting up on the floor, Puck looks over at Rachel. "I was?"

"How could you not know?"

"Because I was fucking sleeping," Puck snaps, standing up slowly.

"In bed," Santana continues. "With _my_girlfriend."

"Santana," Rachel tries.

"What did I say would happen if you tried to make a move, Puckerman?"

"Whoa, whoa, I didn't try to make a move."

"Santana."

"_What_did I say?"

"That you'd rip my balls off," Puck says. "But you've got it all wrong."

"And _you_," Santana continues, turning to Rachel. "Is _this_why you've been so tired the past few weeks? You've been fucking him the night before?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel snaps. "I have no interest in Puck, sexually."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to think?" Santana asks. "You've been overly tired after hanging out with him for the last month, at least and now I find you in bed, curled up together!"

"Just out of curiosity, how'd you get in?" Puck asks.

"I have a key."

"God, you guys are _so_gay."

"Noah, you're not helping," Rachel says. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?"

"Look at the time, Berry."

Both Rachel and Puck look at her clock. It reads 12:32 p.m.

"At first, I thought you were just trying to teach me a lesson," Santana says. "But after forty-five minutes, I got worried. Especially after you didn't pick up your phone."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Santana snarls. "Forget this shit. I'm out of here."

Before Rachel or Puck can say anything, Santana is stomping out the door.

**…**

"Fucking fantastic, Berry," Puck says as he looks around for his clothes. "Your girlfriend is going to rip off my balls and feed them to me."

"I doubt it," Rachel replies, pulling clothes out of her dresser. "She'd probably stomp on them until they're a bloody pulp. It would release more anger that way."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say she needs to get laid."

"She thinks I cheated on her with _you_," Rachel says, holding an outfit. "I'm sure she's hurt and angry, especially after _every_one assumed she and Brittany were still…whatever."

"Look, I know she's your girlfriend and she's a smokin' hot babe, but please don't try to paint her as a misunderstood, sensitive chick. I can't handle that right now."

"That's fine," Rachel replies. "I'm going to change."

**…**

Rachel goes to the Lopez residence first, even though she's fairly certain her girlfriend isn't there. She's proven right when Mrs. Lopez answers the door. A brief discussion gives her no insight into Santana's current location, but does info her of Santana's mother's knowledge about her, very little.

She wonders if she should be bothered by that; then again, her fathers know almost nothing about Santana, so fair's fair.

Brittany's house is next, but the blonde's little sister informs her that Santana came over and the two took off somewhere.

Sitting in her car, Rachel decides to call Brittany instead of Santana because there's a slight increased chance that the blonde will pick up where as Rachel knows her girlfriend won't.

Brittany answers and Rachel fights the urge to begin rambling.

"Hey, Britt," Rachel starts. "Is Santana with you?"

"Yeah."

"How mad is she?"

There's the sound of shuffling and a whisper. "Not mad."

"Oh." Rachel doesn't know how to respond to that. "Well, where are you? I really need to talk to Santana, to explain."

"It's not really a good time," Brittany tells her. "I'll make her come by later. I promise."

Rachel is both relieved and worried, but she can only wait. "Thanks Britt."

"Bye Rach."

**…**

Rachel returns to an empty house. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal; she's certainly used to it. But today the emptiness just envelops it.

Her phone beeps and she excitedly checks it, but it's only a text from Noah.

_U ok_

His checking up on her makes Rachel feel slightly better; even if he uses the horrendous text spelling and grammar.

_Not yet, but I'm working on it. Thanks._

Not knowing what else to do, Rachel hopes on the elliptical for her endorphins and then into the shower.

**…**

It's dark outside when Rachel looks up to find her, hopefully still, girlfriend standing in her bedroom doorway.

Santana holds up the house key Rachel gave her a month ago and sets it on the desk before turning and walking into the hallway.

Rachel's up and chasing after her without a thought. She catches up just as Santana reaches the front door.

"Can we talk?"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Please, sit."

Santana huffs and walks into the kitchen to sit down. Rachel has the ability to stop her, though it would never come to that point. Nonetheless, Santana wants to avoid such a confrontation at all costs.

Rachel sets a Samuel Adams in front of Santana because it's her favorite and she figures it can't hurt while there's a bottle of water for herself.

"I don't mean to sound cliché," Rachel says. "But it wasn't what it looked like."

"Oh yeah? How long have the two of you been sharing a bed?"

"Okay, so that part looks bad," Rachel tells her. "But did you notice how we were fully clothed?"

"_How_long?"

"Months," Rachel says, meekly. "But nothing's ever happened, I swear."

"You must think I'm an idiot."

"Look," Rachel tries. "I know I exercised poor judgment by having us continue to share a bed. It's just that my bed is huge and the couch downstairs is uncomfortable to sleep on. I was simply trying to ensure Noah had a good night of sleep."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"I realize you're angry right now, but he's my friend and I care about him. I would have made the same offer to Finn or Brittany."

Santana glares at Rachel for a long moment. Rachel refuses to flinch under the hard gaze.

"God," Santana says finally. "You would, wouldn't you?"

Rachel nods.

"Why are you such a freak?"

"Wanting people I like to sleep comfortably doesn't make me a freak."

"And the spooning?" Santana asks.

"_That_ was unintentional, I swear," Rachel replies. "_I_certainly wouldn't have pictured Noah as a cuddler."

"Yeah, me neither."

"So you believe me?"

Santana sighs. God, she really is whipped by Rachel Berry. "Yeah, I believe you."

"Good." Rachel grabs Santana and pulls her onto the bed for a kiss that quickly turns heated.

When they finally come up for air, Rachel is shirtless without knowing how.

"You still totally owe me," Santana tells her.

Rachel smirks. "I know how to make it up to you," she says.

"Yeah?"

"Where is the one place in McKinley you wanted to have sex, but were too afraid of getting caught?"

"Ms. Pillsbury's office," Santana replies.

"Santana!"

"Or any of those glass green house like offices," Santana continues. "But think about how freaked out she'd be if she knew we'd done it in her office. She'd probably have to just burn down her whole office. What about you?"

"The auditorium stage."

"Of course," Santana says. "You really are an exhibitionist."

"If I wasn't," Rachel replies. "There's no way I'd fool around so much with you at school."

"Lucky me, then. So why do you want to know?" Santana asks.

"Because later tonight," Rachel tells her. "We're going to break into the school and full fill both our fantasies."

Santana can only stare. "_You_are the best girlfriend ever."

"Well, I get something out of it as well."

"Still, there was so much awesome in that sentence, I might not be able to wait until later."

"Who says you have to?"

**…**

Rachel doesn't go in the auditorium door like she usually does. It's old hat by now and she'd like a new challenge, so they go the door by the gym.

"I would have thought you'd want to do it on Coach Sylvester's desk," Rachel says as they pass the office.

"Yeah, but I already have with Britt, so I had to come up with another one."

Rachel spins around to look at Santana and for a moment the Latina thinks she's fucked up mentioning an ex.

But Rachel just shakes her head. "God and you call me an exhibitionist. Besides the two we're going toward, is there any place in this school you haven't done it?"

"School's boring."

"Your education is important."

"Yeah, I can't wait to get into the real work and apply my knowledge of the Pythagorean Theorem."

They reach Ms. Pillsbury's office first and slip inside. Rachel, being Rachel, wants to have a plan of sorts, but Santana just ignores her slams her into the closest glass wall.

When they break for air, Santana's curiosity gets the better of her. "What exactly did we need to plan out?"

Rachel's answer is to spin them around and push Santana into the glass.

**…**

Because they ended up doing it against the glass walls, they have to spend nearly a half hour cleaning it, at Rachel's insistence.

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because," Rachel says. "I don't want to leave any evidence behind. I've gone this long without being caught. I'd like to continue."

"Do you really think they're going to try to match your ass check print? What are they going to do? Have everyone they suspect drop trou and leave a mark? How does one read an ass check print?"

"Shut up," Rachel says. "I like Ms. Pillsbury and I don't want her hyperventilating until she passes out because she found out we had sex against each of her glass walls."

"Don't forget her chair."

"You're a terrible influence," Rachel murmurs.

"Considering this was all your idea, I think who's the terrible influence is up for debate."

When they finally make it to the auditorium, they both smell like cleaning products. Rachel flounces up to the stage and sits on the edge. Not wanting to bother with the lights, they're both using flashlights. Feeling a bit tired, Santana joins her. Rachel leans her head against Santana's shoulder.

"We can always come back another day," Santana suggests.

"Oh, so now that yours is done, you're fine leaving?" Rachel scoffs. "I see how it is."

"Or it's something to look forward to."

"We're doing it," Rachel tells Santana. "When are we going to have another opportunity?"

"Considering how easily you picked the lock," Santana replies. "I'd say whenever we want."

"Perhaps," Rachel says. "But I had my hopes set on this. And you know how I hate to be disappointed."

"I guess if we _have_to."

Rachel looks around and then disappears behind the stage left curtain. A moment later she reappears with a blanket. "The stage is filthy."

"Why do we have to be on the ground?"

"There's nothing to lean against," Rachel explains. "And we _have_to do be center stage."

"Of course we do."

"Shut up and kiss me."

**…**

Monday morning the McKinley High swim team enters to find that someone has taken the diving board and tossed it in the pool. Whoever did it also painted the words, "I'm drowning!" on it before pushing it in.

Several students try to retrieve it, but it's in the deep end and it's fairly heavy. Eventually they have to drain the pool. The janitorial staff then climbs in and drags it out. They spend the rest of the day cleaning the paint off and reattaching it.

**…**

Rachel is surprised to find her girlfriend waiting for her at her locker Monday morning, since it's not a regular occurrence.

"Good morning, Santana," she greets.

"Rach."

"It isn't that I'm not pleased to see you this morning," Rachel says. "But why are you here?"

"It seems that the McKinley prankster has struck again."

"Oh?"

"It's might be my favorite one yet," Santana continues.

"Better than the chickens?"

"I think so."

"I'm glad," Rachel says.

"I was worried you'd never pull anything again."

"Everyone needs a hobby."

"May I walk you to class?" Santana asks.

Rachel gives an incredulous stare. "Really?"

"Of course," Santana says, taking Rachel's books from her. They start walking towards Rachel's first class.

"Next you're going to want to eat lunch together," Rachel says.

"We can if you want."

Rachel stops and pulls Santana into an empty classroom. "What's gotten into you today?"

"What do you mean?" Santana asks.

"You're acting all…girlfriendy. It's freaking me out."

"So what, now you don't want me to walk you to class or carry your books?" Santana questions. "Because you sure as hell did in the beginning."

"I remember," Rachel replies. "But things change. And now I kind of like it how it is. We're not that sort of couple. Sure we spend all day Saturday together, but we also spend Friday night apart, you with an ex and me with an ex for both of us. What does that say to you?"

"That we're secure in our relationship."

"Exactly," Rachel agrees. "So why change things? If you want to walk to class together every day, that's fine. But don't do it for me. Do it because you want to."

"It's just even though Saturday started out horribly, it turned out to be an awesome weekend," Santana explains. "I just wanted to give you something you wanted since you gave me something I really wanted. Two things, actually."

"I'm pretty sure we're even on that account," Rachel replies. "Though what's the other thing?"

"The return of you being…badass. Breaking into school to have sex. And then with the diving board. You know what that does to me."

"Confidentially," Rachel says. "I rather enjoy it myself. I had a few ideas that I didn't get to try before the plug was pulled."

"I should kick Puck's ass on principal," Santana mutters. "If my smokin' hot, badass girlfriend wants to pull the pranks he's not smart enough or ballsy enough to do, then she should be able to."

"Thanks." Rachel finds badass Santana pretty hot as well, so she grabs her Cheerios uniform and tugs her in for a kiss. Santana, being Santana, grabs Rachel's ass and pulls her even closer.

"Slow down there, tiger," Rachel says when they pull apart. "I fully intend on attending classes today. _All_of them, so you'll just have to hold that thought."

"Spoil sport," Santana grumbles as she takes Rachel's hand and leads her back into the hallway.

Santana walks Rachel to her first class, but doesn't carry her books. Rachel makes it to the rest of her morning classes without her girlfriend by her side, though they do pass each other in the hall with a passing smile. They do, however have lunch together, but they definitely don't eat.


	7. Keeping Up Appearances

**Title:** Keeping Up Appearances  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, New Directions, Will, Sue, Emma  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck comes up with an idea for a week long prank. Insanely, Rachel agrees.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~9,650  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.  
><strong><br>**

It all starts because of some random channel flipping. Puck has decided that this week's bro night should just be at Rachel's, watching TV, drinking and mocking said TV. Thankful there's nothing terribly elaborate in store for them tonight, Rachel agrees.

It's not that she doesn't enjoy the bro antics, but it's been a long week and she's not really in the mood to trek through the woods or hop fences or whatever craziness Puck might come up with.

They're stretched out on the couch when they stumbled onto the movie _Freaky Friday_. Not the Lindsey Lohan remake, but the original with Jodie Foster; which is why Rachel makes Puck stop so they can watch it.

They're both drinking. Rachel's decided to give beer another chance, though she still doesn't understand the appeal. But at least Puck's been harassing her less about her need to _not_ drink. It's partly because of this that she's decided to indulge tonight.

Perhaps _that's_ why she actually agrees with Puck's proposal.

"We should do that," Puck exclaims.

"Rent _Freaky Friday_?"

"No, pretend that it happened to us. We go into school and you can swagger about and I'll over explain everything."

"You'd have to clean up your speech considerably, Noah," Rachel tells him. "I am an impeccable speaker."

"Shit, don't remind me. I'll have to actually study or whatever. But still, wouldn't it be awesome?"

"I don't know," Rachel says. "I know I'm able to stay in character for hours at a time, but what about you?"

"Hey, the Puckasauras can do anything he sets his mind to," Puck replies.

"You sound like a self esteem seminar."

"C'mon on, it'll be fun."

Rachel sighs and takes another sip of beer. "Fine. But only if we plan things out before hand. I want to be prepared for every contingency."

"Of course you do."

**…**

So the pair spends the next week preparing. Puck actually reads the SAT prep books his mother bought and he usually uses as footrests. Rachel attempts to learn about the video games Puck talks about.

"You're also going to have to flirt more," Puck tells her.

"I can do that."

"With girls that aren't Santana."

Rachel sighs. "Yes, I was afraid of that. She's not going to be very happy."

"She'll get over it."

"Hopefully," Rachel agrees. "But you have to use a stall when you urinate."

"What? Why?"

"Because I would," Rachel tells him. "And you're going to have to actually study, so you can answer questions in class."

"Fine," Puck grouses. "As long as you keep your hand down and at least look like you're not paying attention."

"That won't be a problem, trust me," Rachel replies. "I'm actually ahead in each class by approximately three weeks."

Puck just stares at her.

"In case something comes up and I'm not able to study, I won't fall behind."

"You're a freak."

Rachel sinks onto her bed. "I don't know if this is such a good idea."

"Because I called you a freak?"

"Not exactly."

"C'mon, Rach," Puck tries. "You've pulled a lot of shit lately, this is just one more. It's just a bit more elaborate than most."

"Yes, that is true, but this one focuses on mainly fooling our friends. I warned everyone about the sprinklers and the bathroom…"

"This is different," Puck tells her. "It's a mini mind fuck. It'll be fun. Besides, maybe if people actually think we've switched, you can ask them things that they'd never tell you."

"I admit that does sound appealing," Rachel allows. "But Santana hates surprises or being tricked."

"_Or_ maybe she'll be impressed with your acting skills."

"And once Santana starts to figure it out, I'll be cut off."

"Ha!" Puck says. "The real reason."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting sex, Noah," Rachel says.

"Maybe so, but you can survive a few days."

"Of course that's true, but I don't want to. Have you seen my girlfriend?"

"Rachel, please," Puck says. "This is the most epically awesome prank idea I've managed to have in a long time. And I finally have someone capable of helping me pull it off. Finn's great and all, but he could never commit to anything lengthy. It has to be you."

"Thank you, Noah, that's flattering, but I'm really not-"

"We can do karaoke for bro night sometimes this month," Puck interrupts.

Rachel can only gape at him.

"We can do _Summer Nights_ from _Grease_, and _Paradise By the Dashboard Light_, if you agree to do this and give it your usual Rachel Berry 150% effort."

"You swear?"

Puck nods.

"On the stack of pornography under your bed?"

"I do."

"Fine, then, we're doing this."

"Damn straight we are."

Rachel goes to her desk and pulls out a notebook. "Okay, so I think we know enough about each other's family to fake our way through that. You're going to actually do your homework and I won't pay attention."

"I can't believe you made a list for something you weren't even sure about."

"I had a bit of free time in class today."

"You're going to have to be a bit meaner to people," Puck tells her.

"I know. But you're going to have to be nice," Rachel replies. "So it's an even trade off."

"I'm just glad you're not getting slushied anymore."

"Yes, that would be very inconvenient to this plan," Rachel agrees. "And you'll be more enthusiastic in glee?"

"If you'll be more laid back."

"And then there's clothing," Rachel says. She drags Puck to her closet. "If you were me, what would you wear?"

"The shortest skirt possible," Puck grins.

Rachel sighs. "I figured you'd say that. Do you know how to walk in a skirt?"

"There's a difference?"

"Do you have any sweaters?"

"Don't worry, Berry," Puck assures her. "I have a bunch of sweaters my mom bought that I never wear. And some khakis. I figure that'll be as close to dressing as Rachel Berry as possible." Puck then looks through her closet and pulls out a couple t-shirts. "Is this a flannel?"

"Yes," Rachel replies. "Brittany gave it to me when I started dating Santana."

Puck adds it to the pile. "I've been listening to musicals this week, too. I won't be able to sing them on cue or anything, but hopefully it'll be enough to fool everyone," Puck says. "Oh and I came up with a couple Puck like nicknames you could give yourself."

"I'm impressed, Noah," Rachel says. "Even though this was your idea, I still had concerns that you wouldn't give it the proper level of commitment I give every prank I pull. I apologize."

"Thanks, I guess."

**…**

By the time they fall asleep Friday night, they have everything figured out to Rachel's satisfaction. Though Puck vows to never undertake an elaborate prank with Rachel again. Bro or not, the girl is just too detailed orientated. He knows he should be thankful, and he is, because the whole thing will be awesome, but he's exhausted.

**…**

Monday morning, it's actually Finn that notices it first. He meets up with Puck at his locker before class. Now that he and Rachel have become bros, Finn's sees Puck a little less than he used to, so he tries to hang out a bit more at school.

"Hey dude, how was your weekend?"

"It was adequate, I suppose," Puck replies. "Rachel and I had a lovely, relaxing time on Friday and then I managed to sleep away most of Saturday. And you?"

"Mine was cool," Finn replies, trying not to be weirded out. "Kurt made me watch _Gypsy_ and it wasn't too bad."

"I'm glad to hear that you and Kurt are getting along so well."

"Yeah…it's great. Our parents are happy about it too." Finn finally feels comfortable commenting on Puck's outfit. "Dude, what are you wearing?"

Puck looks down at himself before meeting Finn's eyes. "I thought I would attempt something new."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Uh…"

"Well, I must be off to class," Puck announces.

"Uh, yeah. Later, dude."

**…**

Santana receives a text from Rachel during first period, which isn't all that unusual. However, the context of the text is.

_wanna b in u so bad rite now babe meet me usual_

Rachel doesn't usually initiate the sex at school, so Santana is distracted enough to not notice how not like her girlfriend, the text sounds. Instead, she simply excuses herself, citing Coach Sylvester and hurries to find Rachel.

**…**

"Hey, Rachel," Finn greets after first period.

He's sort of weirded out by Puck's behavior today. He's in Finn's first period and the guy was raising his hand and answering questions. Finn wonders if this was motivated by Rachel. So he's sought her out after first.

"What up, dude."

Finn does a triple take.

"Yo, silent night," Rachel says when Finn just stands there gaping. "How's it going?"

"Uh, fine, I guess."

"Great. Later."

"Bye, Rachel."

Now Finn is really confused. He can only stare after Rachel. It isn't until the warning bell rings that he is able to move from his spot.

**…**

During second period, Quinn is quickly unnerved by the silence and apathy coming from her Chem lab partner.

She'd been rather reluctant when Berry had suggested it at the beginning of the year, but she couldn't fault the logic. Sure, they had glee in common as well as a connection to Santana, but in Quinn's mind that isn't enough. However, in terms of Quinn's academics, Berry really was the only choice because the rest of the class either annoyed the shit out of Quinn or didn't care enough to put forth any effort.

And it hasn't been as bad as she pictured. Yes, Berry does ramble on and on, but if Quinn asks, Berry will stop talking. And Berry always does her share. Because of the partnership, they both have a solid A in the class. It's the one subject that Quinn never worries about.

However, today, Quinn is worried. Berry's doing just enough to get by and isn't talking at all. In fact, Quinn is pretty sure that she's said more today than Berry has. And the blonde is pretty sure that has _never_ happened.

The outfit threw her off initially as well. She didn't comment, though; not really in the mood for a Rachel Berry rant about clothing. But now, with the added odd behavior, Quinn is insanely curious. She won't ask; Quinn's somewhat worried about the answer.

**…**

Artie has pinched himself over a dozen times already and fourth period is only half over.

He shares the class with Puck and today Artie finds his behavior shocking. Not only is Puck raising his hand and offering answers, he appears to be correct. In fact, everyone in the class is thrown off. Artie can see the teacher staring warily at Puck as if she's expecting him to jump up and attack someone.

What makes the whole thing even more unbelievable is the clothing that Puck is wearing. He's dressed in perfectly pressed khakis and a argyle sweater. Artie wonders if he lost a bet with Rachel.

Artie sort of wishes that he and Puck were closer, so he could ask. Maybe he'll ask Kurt if Finn mentioned Puck suffering a concussion or something.

**…**

"What are you wearing?" Kurt asks as Rachel sits down for lunch.

"Trying something different," she replies, not really looking at him as she begins eating her lunch.

"Well, it works for you, girl," Mercedes says. "I didn't think you even owned jeans."

"Just full of surprises, huh?"

"What's Santana think of the new look?" Kurt asks.

"Didn't ask."

"I can't figure the two of you out," Mercedes says. "I'm starting to think you're just using each other for sex."

"So what if we are?"

The other four occupants of the table just gasp and stare at her. Ignoring them, she keeps eating.

"Uh, Rachel?" Artie starts. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"No offensive," Tina says. "But you're acting kind of strange."

"You guys need to chill out, is all."

They just keep staring at her.

"Right. As much fun as this isn't," Rachel says, standing. "I'm gonna go find the gf for a quickie, then."

They all watch her walk out of the lunchroom.

"What the hell is going on?" Kurt asks.

**…**

It isn't until lunch that Santana notices that something is up. Brittany is actually the one to bring it up.

"Have you talked to Rachel today?"

"Sort of," Santana replies. "Why?"

"She's acting weird," Brittany tells her. "She didn't answer one question in fourth. She didn't even look like she was paying attention."

"Maybe she's preoccupied with some glee thing," Santana offers

"And she's wearing jeans."

"What?" Santana thinks back to their first period encounter. Her girlfriend had been wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She'd been distracted since Rachel had pounced on her immediately. Santana had been too focused on Rachel's head under her Cheerios skirt to notice what she'd been wearing. And there hadn't been time to reciprocate. In fact, Rachel had simply left a lingering kiss once Santana's breathing had slowed and hurried off. Very strange indeed.

**…**

Will is having lunch in his office when Puck knocks on the door.

"Oh, hey, Puck."

"Mr. Schue," Puck says. "I was hoping to have a moment of your time."

"Of course," Will says. "Have a seat."

"Now I realize I haven't been the most vocal in what we should do in glee, but I have a few ideas, so I was hoping, you'd be open to them?"

"I'm always up for new ideas, Puck, you know that."

"Yes, right then. I was thinking we should do something from _Company_ because Sondheim is a musical theater staple. And while _Into the Woods_ is probably the most well known, it doesn't lend itself to being sung out of context as well as_Company_ does."

"Uh, well, I guess that's true."

"I was thinking either _Getting Married Today_ or _The Ladies Who Lunch_. Rachel could do either Amy or Joanne beautifully and I think I'd be excellent as Paul if you chose to do _Getting Married Today_. I'm not sure about the celestial singer. Maybe Mercedes?"

"Uh, maybe."

"There's also _A Little Night Music_," Puck continues. "Rachel would sing _Send in the Clowns_ beautifully, don't you think?"

"Well, I'm sure that Rachel appreciates the support, Puck," Will says. "But don't you have any ideas for something you want to do? A solo of your own?"

"Not at the moment, no," Puck replies. "Because I was uncertain how you would respond to a suggestion from me since I usually don't make them. Plus, I'm not really a solo type of guy."

"Right…" Will says. He's just noticed what Puck's wearing. The teen looks very preppy and un-Puck like. "My door is always open. I hope you'll remember that."

"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Schue," Puck says, standing. "I must be off. I have several more things to accomplish before the end of lunch."

Will watches Puck exit his office and can only stare after him.

**…**

Santana receives _another_ text from Rachel requesting sex. That alone is strange. She vows to pay more attention to what Rachel's wearing this time and not be distracted.

However, she is once again distracted. Rachel might be wearing jeans, but Santana can't be sure. Her girlfriend slams her against the bathroom wall of the handicap stall, while exposing whatever _she_ feels is necessary. So despite being knuckle deep, Santana has no idea what Rachel was wearing below the waist.

Not that she's complaining. Rachel has three fingers thrusting into her as well and they're both desperately trying to get the other to come before the end of lunch bell rings.

They're both successful. The bell rings while they're catching their breath. Santana blinks, trying to remember what she wanted to ask Rachel, but is sidetracked by the sight of the diva sucking her fingers clean. Santana closes her eyes and groans; therefore missing Rachel redressing. She receives a quick, but tongue filled kiss and once again Rachel is gone before anything else can be said.

**…**

Standing at his locker, Kurt is pretty sure he's hallucinating. A few lockers down is Rachel Berry, shamelessly flirting with a freshman Cheerio. The girl is only an inch or two taller than Rachel, and the diva is leaning in closely as she smiles and winks. If the two were any closer, a piece of paper wouldn't fit in between them.

"Have I fallen into the twilight zone?" Kurt asks Mercedes when she approaches him.

Mercedes follows his line of sight. "Apparently we all have."

"Hope Santana doesn't see that," Kurt says.

"Who knows about those two? Remember what Rachel said at lunch?"

They watch as Rachel runs a finger down the freshman's uniform, stopping just above her breasts. Oddly, the girl doesn't seem to mind.

"It's like a car wreck," Kurt whispers. "I can't look away."

"What are you guys staring at?"

Mercedes and Kurt both jump in surprise. They turn to find Santana behind them.

"Nothing," Kurt mumbles.

"Whatever. Have you guys seen Rachel?" Santana asks. "I kinda need to talk to her."

"Rachel?"

"Uh…" Mercedes hems. "No, not recently."

"Is she wearing jeans today?"

It's an odd question, but Kurt just nods.

Santana scowls and stalks off.

When Kurt and Mercedes look back to the freshman, they find her alone, looking giddy.

"This is not good," Mercedes murmurs. "Not good at all."

**…**

Glad it's the end of the day, Finn is at his locker, getting rid of books when he notices Puck strolling down the hall. He still can't get over Puck's clothing choice for the day, but it's still not the strangest thing about him today.

Meanwhile Puck is making his way to his locker, totally ignoring two Cheerios very obviously trying to get his attention. Finn is flabbergasted. He's _never_ seen Puck ignore two hot girls trying to get his attention. He once left Finn struggling with a couch the Puckerman's were getting rid of just to flirt with the cougar that was checking her mailbox.

Finn doesn't know what to think anymore.

**…**

Rachel is thankful that Santana isn't supposed to come over tonight. She knows she shouldn't, but Rachel realizes it will be more difficult to keep up the charade when it's just them one on one. So even though Rachel was at first annoyed that Santana had a family obligation she couldn't get out of, tonight it is a blessing.

However, the house is big and lonely. She's tempted to make Noah come over since he's the only one she doesn't have to keep up the act for. But she has homework to do and Rachel knows Noah would just be too distracting. Plus, since Santana will most likely be over tomorrow, Rachel knows she needs to either come up with another excuse or really work on being comfortable as Noah.

Or maybe she could just distract her with sex.

**…**

When he gets home, Puck quickly sheds his preppy clothing. Wearing it makes him feel dirty. He knows this whole thing was his brainchild, but he had no idea dressing like a male version of Rachel would feel so wrong.

The whole prank is exhausting; trying to keep his vocabulary perfect, answering questions in class while being peppy and upbeat is a lot of work. He doesn't know how Rachel does it every day. Because she's not like that on bro night. Well, the extensive vocabulary is the same, but the other stuff is different.

He's glad they're only going to keep this up for a week. He's not sure if he could do it much longer.

**…**

Tuesday, Artie is rolling down the halls when he notices Rachel, dressed again in jeans, flirting with a freshman theater geek. His shock is enough that he actually runs into someone. Thankfully, it's a teacher, so all that's necessary is an apology and he's not ruthlessly shoved into a wall.

Both girls are so focused on each other that Artie is able to wheel close enough to hear most of what's being said.

"…girlfriend won't mind?"

Rachel smirks. "Don't worry about her."

"You two are like the hottest couple in school."

"Well, I hate to do _any_thing half way," Rachel says.

"Is it true that you two…" The geek stops, looks around and then leans in even closer, which Artie didn't think was possible. He strains, but he can't make out what she's whispering, but Rachel's grin in response is almost lewd.

Rachel nods. "It's why in some circles, I'm known as Rachosaurus Sex," Rachel murmurs.

Artie rolls his eyes, but the freshman giggles.

The bell rings and the two pull apart to a respectable distance.

"Bye Rachel."

"Later, baby."

Artie can only watch the pair walk away separately. He's insanely curious about what the freshman whispered that garnered such a reaction from Rachel, but at the same time, he figures he's better off _not_ knowing. He shrugs and heads towards his first class.

**…**

Quinn is positive she's in the twilight zone. She's in her third period class and Puck has raised his hand and answered five questions _correctly_ throughout the class discussion of the industrial revolution.

First Rachel yesterday in Chem and now Puck, Quinn's concerned there might be something in the water. Or maybe in the choir room.

Oh god, is she at risk?

What if Coach Sylvester is piping something in through the vents just to mess with Mr. Schue?

It makes sense. Rachel would be the most susceptible since she can't keep her mouth shut. While Puck sits in the back near the air vents. Quinn knows where they are because during her pregnancy, she was always hot and tried to never be near a vent blasting heat.

As Puck answers yet another question correctly, Quinn ponders if she has time over lunch to duck out and buy one of those bird flu masks to protect herself.

**…**

Mike and Finn are walking down the halls during lunch when they hear singing coming from the choir room. This isn't unusual. Rachel practices during lunch almost daily. However, _this_ is a male voice.

Looking in the window on the door, they see Puck singing. He's sitting at the piano, playing with one hand as he sings.

Finn has to do a double take. He looks around the room for Rachel because that would be the only way Puck would be practicing at lunch. But Puck is alone.

They both listen to the words, but neither recognize the song. Though it does sound vaguely familiar to Finn and he wonders if it is one of over a dozen musicals Rachel made him listen to while lecturing him about its merits during their tenure as boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Puck's been hanging out way too much with Rachel," Mike says.

Finn definitely agrees.

**…**

Tina spends most of last period trying to figure Rachel out.

She's not the only one. Tina notices out of the corner of her eye, Santana staring at Rachel as well. She's still in her usual seat up front, but she's apparently doodling in her notebook and ignoring the teacher.

Mr. Kelvin keeps looking at Rachel whenever there's a lull in his speech, because usually the diva will take the opportunity to add something. Today, she just continues to draw.

Soon their classmates are starting to notice the odd behavior as well. The longer it goes on, the more unnerved everyone becomes.

Rachel had behavior similarly the day before, but Tina had been taking careful notes and had been somewhat distracted. Plus, she assumed, like everyone else did, that Rachel was just having an off day.

Apparently they were wrong.

**…**

Glee is where everyone really starts to become freaked out. Rachel is less than perfect and doesn't seem to care, while Puck is spot on and way too intense.

"Why don't we take a five minute breather?" Mr. Shue says after Rachel messes up for the third time.

Everyone gives a sigh of relief and relaxes. But it doesn't take long for them to become confused again. Puck goes to the piano and begins playing, while singing quietly under his breath. Rachel slumps into a chair, pulls out her cell phone and begins texting.

The rest of New Directions and Will are just staring when Santana phone beeps. She checks it; she has a text message from Rachel. Reading it, Santana blushes for the first time in a long time. Brittany notices and reads over her shoulder.

"You've really done _that_?" she asks Santana.

"Britt!" Santana quickly puts her phone away. However, it seems Rachel's not going to stop because Santana receives text after text until she turns it on vibrate.

_u wld put it on vibrate, my dirty grl_ Santana reads just as Mr. Schue stands up.

"All right," Will says, clapping his hands. "Are we ready to try again?"

Everyone but Rachel stands up. She's still texting.

"Um, Rachel?" Will tries.

"You guys can start without me," she replies, waving them away.

This is technically true since it's a Kurt and Mercedes duet, but Rachel's never failed to participate even if she wasn't the lead.

"Rachel, don't be ridiculous," Puck says. "In order for us to properly practice, we need each and every one of us standing and giving our all. Or else we'll never be the best."

"Whatever."

"Rachel Berry," Puck continues. "I find your lack of enthusiasm to be extremely disconcerting. When one member of our team is so lackadaisical about rehearsal, we have no hopes of achieving anything."

"The Rachinator cares not."

Puck huffs, spins on his heel and performs a perfect diva storm out.

Silence falls over the room. They can only alternate their stares between where Puck, dressed in khakis and a polo, was and an apathetic and casually dressed Rachel Berry who seems more interested in her cell phone than her surroundings.

"Is this really happening?" Kurt says. "Or am I dreaming?"

"We're all dreaming then," Artie says.

"There must be something in the water," Tina mutters.

"We're all going to catch it," Quinn whispers loudly, but seemingly to herself. "I knew I should have gotten a mask."

Santana, Tina, Finn and Mike all look at Quinn in confusion. The rest follow suit when the blonde covers her mouth and slows her breathing.

Will, sensing he's lost control of the situation, ends glee practice early. Quinn hotfoots it out of the room while everyone else strolls out. Santana approaches her still texting girlfriend.

"So are we still on for tonight?" Santana asks.

"Sorry, babe, no can do," Rachel says. "Puck's coming over for some bro-ings on. You understand."

"Uh, sure , I guess," Santana replies. "It's just that you guys usually just do that on Fridays."

"Trying something new," Rachel shrugs.

"All right," Santana says. "It's just I kinda missed hanging with you last night."

"Me too, babe." Rachel is still texting.

"Tomorrow then?"

"Sure. Definitely. Whatever you want."

Santana is starting to feel like a third wheel in her own relationship.

**…**

Puck does go over to Rachel's that evening. They do homework and watch TV, purposely not talking about the situation they've created for themselves. Puck finds himself more worried about what it's doing to his rep, than he thought he would be. Rachel is very concerned about what this game playing is going to do to her relationship. But neither brings it up.

**…**

Rachel has been purposely avoiding having any real alone time with Santana for the duration of the prank. She figures it will be easier that way. Also, if she really had switched bodies with Puck, Rachel assumes he would also avoid Santana to avoid detection or something.

It's unfortunate though because she really misses Santana. Even if they don't see each other a lot at school, they still try to have some interaction. And having Santana over after dinner helps too.

Rachel wonders if she's becoming too codependent. She can barely stay away for a week to pull a prank. If her level of commitment wasn't so high, Rachel would have broke down and told Santana everything the night before; which is why she dissuaded Santana from hanging out. She hopes Santana isn't too pissed at her.

**…**

Brittany and Santana are walking towards their lockers before school when Santana stops short. There in the hall is her girlfriend, clearly and obviously flirting with a senior soccer player. Santana's eyes narrow in jealousy because she knows for a _fact_ that Michelle Jamieson has been wanting to get into Rachel's pants since Santana started dating her. The Latina's never brought it up to Rachel because she hates playing the part of a jealous lover.

But seeing the two huddle together, whispering and giggling is enough to stir up anger and resentment in Santana. She clenches her fists to stop herself from marching over and breaking the soccer forward's leg. Santana wants to rip her arm off and beat her with it, but the bitch would still technically be able to play soccer.

Brittany wisely leads Santana away before she can do any damage.

**…**

Santana decides to confront Rachel about her strange behavior the past couple days. The mystery of it all is driving her crazy. And seeing Rachel flirt with other girls is killing her. Besides, she misses her girlfriend.

She feels like a sap just _thinking_ it. What started as something fun and carefree has actually become a _real_ relationship, Santana is shocked to realize.

Santana had been annoyed at first that Rachel had demanded exclusivity despite them both agreeing to keep things causal. But Rachel promised to make it worth her wild and it definitely has been. She didn't think it was possible after seeing the disastrous relationship that was Finn and Rachel or even Jesse and Rachel, but dating Rachel Berry has turned out to be fun.

Santana wants to get that back.

**…**

Normally if Santana wanted Rachel's attention, she'd just text a booty call, but she has a feeling that it would end like the other meetings this week. She's not complaining, _definitely_ not complaining, but she can't allow herself to be distracted this time.

Instead, she has Brittany text Rachel asking to meet at the second floor janitor's closet. This is where the couple have most of their arguments at school. Santana figures she'll have the edge enough to be able to dictate the meeting.

Santana arrives before Rachel, but stays quiet when her girlfriend enters.

"C'mon, S," Rachel says. "I know you were behind the text."

"We need to talk."

"If you say so, babe."

They stand in silence because Santana assumes Rachel will begin rambling immediately just as she usually does. When a while minute passes in silence, Santana lets out a frustrated groan.

"You have _nothing_ to say?" she asks.

"Hey, you're the one that wanted to talk," Rachel points out.

"And you don't have a clue what about?"

"Naw," Rachel replies. "Way I see it, we're all good."

Incredulous, Santana's eyes widen as she stares at Rachel, trying to figure her out. "What the hell is going on with you this week?"

"No idea what you're talking about," Rachel replies.

"Don't play dumb, Berry," Santana says. "You're not good at it."

"You say the sweetest things, babe."

"So you're not going to tell me what the hell is up with you?"

"Like I said," Rachel answers. "No idea what you're talking about."

"And that soccer bitch you were flirting with this morning?"

"Harmless flirting," Rachel replies. "Means nothing. You do it."

"True," Santana agrees. "But you never have… And I just thought…"

Santana actually feels hurt by Rachel's nonchalant attitude. It's different than the usual casualness that's surrounded their relationship. It feels like Rachel doesn't care, but that can't be right, can it?

"Ah, babe, don't be like that," Rachel says.

"I, uh, I can't have this discussion at school," Santana tells her.

"Fair enough. Wanna fool around, instead?"

"Don't be an idiot," Santana snaps. "I'll talk to you later."

Santana stomps off leaving Rachel alone in the closet.

**…**

Wednesday at lunch, New Directions minus Puck and Rachel meet in the choir room to discuss the situation.

"We've all noticed it, right?" Kurt asks.

"It's rather impossible to miss," Artie says.

"Yeah, but what the fuck is going on?" Santana growls.

"We've fallen into some weird alternate dimension," Tina suggests.

"It's like _Face_/_Off_ without the crazy surgery," Brittany says.

Everyone stops and looks at Brittany.

"Oh my god," Kurt says. "You're totally right."

"It is like they've switched bodies," Mercedes adds.

"So what do we do about it?" Quinn asks. "Because this new Rachel is messing up my Chem grade."

"Glee's suffering too," Mike says.

"Yeah, who knew that Rachel's insane focus is actually helping us," Mercedes says.

"Maybe they both need to be struck by lightning," Brittany suggests. "Like those guys in that movie. They wore underwear on their head."

Everyone pauses and tries to figure out what movie Brittany is talking about.

"I don't think that'll help, Britt," Santana says.

"So what do we do?" Finn asks.

"We confront them," Artie proposes. "Maybe they're aware of what happened and are working to fix it."

"What if they're not?" Tina asks.

"Then hopefully our confrontation will enlighten them and we can work towards a solution," Artie replies.

"I kinda feel reality slipping away," Quinn says.

"Join the club," Santana tells her.

**…**

Wednesday afternoon during Cheerios' practice, Santana finds herself distracted. Thankfully, after so long under Sue Sylvester's tutelage, she has enough muscle memory to be able to go through the motions. She knows she's not the perfection Coach Sylvester demands, but she hopes it's enough to slip by.

She just can't get her confrontation with Rachel earlier out of her head. The utter apathy that seemed to be oozing from her was more hurtful than she'd ever thought it be.

Maybe because Santana just realized today that she's _in_ love with Rachel.

They haven't said the words yet. Santana knows this is more because of her than Rachel. However, she isn't a hundred percent sure that Rachel would use the L word about their relationship. For the most part, serious discussion isn't really a part of their repertoire. Once again, Santana feels this is more her doing than Rachel's.

"Sloppy, Lopez!" Coach yells into her bullhorn. "Stop thinking about Berry's ass and concentrate or you'll be doing suicides until you puke. And then you'll do one hundred more."

**…**

Rachel figures she better make an effort if she wants to salvage her relationship. Hopefully, Santana will understand if it's all for a prank. Rachel infers she will be since Santana's been more than okay with her prank playing side.

She sends Santana a text.

_u stll stppng by 2nite_

Rachel knows Santana is at Cheerios practice, currently, so she dives into her homework and waits for a reply.

**…**

Santana feels a bit more reassured when she receives the text from Rachel, but practice was especially brutal and she's too exhausted to argue anymore today, so she decides to put it off and hope that tomorrow morning Rachel will wake up and be her usual self. So she sends a text simply saying good night.

_2 trd c u tmrw nite_

**…**

Thursday morning, Rachel finds herself in Sue Sylvester's office.

"We need to talk Rizzo," Sue says.

Rachel slumps into a chair and puts a foot up on the desk.

Sue knocks it down and sits up a bit straighter.

"I believe I speak for everyone in this pathetic place when I ask, what game are you playing?"

Rachel ignores her.

"Don't play that game with me, Roxanne. I'm much better at it than you could ever hope to be."

Rachel continues to ignore her.

"And look at me when I'm talking," Sue continues. "One should always acknowledge one's superior."

"Whatever you say."

"Lopez's been sloppy this week," Sue explains. "And I feel confident in saying that it's _your_ doing, Rochelle."

"Don't see how," Rachel replies. "_My_ job is to keep her happy in the sack. It's _your_ job to keep her in line at practice."

"Well then you're not keeping up your end of the bargain," Sue tells her. "Because I'm doing nothing different. _You're_ the one's that acting like a damn lunatic."

"People are just afraid of change," Rachel muses.

"Change is bad," Sue says. "Unless it's change _I_ instigate. Change back and fix this. Or I'll be going after your precious little glee club with renewed focus. If you think it was bad before, you're very, very wrong, Rebecca."

Rachel still looks bored. "Can I go now?"

"Dismissed."

**…**

Brittany finds Rachel in between first and second period.

"Hey, Rachel," she says. "I got this for you." She hands Rachel a yard long metal pole.

"Uh, thanks, Britt," Rachel replies.

"It's to fix you and Puck."

"Fix?"

"Yeah, you guys are all mixed up and it's freaking people out. So I got this to fix you guys. I got one for Puck too." She holds up another metal pole.

"I don't know what to do with this."

"You guys each need to hold one," Brittany explains. "And then when it's lightning out, you guys hold hands and get struck by lightning. It'll fix you."

"Right," Rachel nods. "Can you hold onto these until it rains? And then we'll try it."

"Okay. Cool." Brittany accepts the metal pole back and marches down the hallway.

**…**

Will isn't sure what to expect for this afternoon's glee practice. With the personality switch that Puck and Rachel seem to have experienced, everything feels out of sync. It doesn't help that it's throwing the rest of the kids off as well.

He considers confronting them about it, but he isn't exactly sure what that would accomplish. Or more precisely, he doesn't know what he would say.

Because, truthfully, while he has concerns about glee and whatever Rachel and Puck are going through, he's mostly freaked out by it. Hearing Puck speak perfect, precise English is frightening while seeing Rachel's apathy and disinterest is unnerving. He never thought it possible but he'd much rather see Rachel pull a diva moment than sit idly in a chair, seemingly bored.

The only solution he can think of is to have Emma speak to them. Maybe she can figure out what exactly is happening. Especially since Will has the slight fear that this personality switch will begin a chain reaction of other switches. And if Mercedes starts acting like Kurt and vice versa, he might have to quit glee club.

**…**

Puck is dragged into Coach Sylvester's office after third period. He protests about missing class, but is easily ignored as he's pushed into a chair. Despite his grumbling, he sits attentively waiting for Sue to speak

Sue admits to herself that the apparent transformation is creepingly accurate. Perhaps this is some merit to the body swapping rumor that Brittany started. Though Sue is leaning more towards a Stepford Wives sort of moment.

She'd seen the girl walking around caring two metal poles. Despite not asking, Sue was treated to a monologue about how she was going to fix Mohawk and Streisand. She would normally tell her to save it for someone who cares, but instead found herself intrigued. The girl might have insane ideas, but Sue admires that imagination and determination. It's what makes her an excellent Cheerio.

"You and I need to talk," Sue begins. "Despite not caring about most of the miscreants roaming the halls of this pathetic institution, I couldn't help but notice the transformation that has occurred in you and your girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Don't play stupid with me, Bobby Brown. Your and Whitney's change in behavior is slowly disturbing some of my best Cheerios. And we both know how unacceptable that is. So fix it."

"Coach Sylvester," Puck begins. "While I appreciate your peripheral concern, I hardly know how to respond to your accusations. Rachel and I are just fine; and frankly, I'm quite confused by what all the fuss is about."

"Oh you're good, Norman. I must confess to being mildly impressed. I would have thought your head too empty to properly execute such a feat."

"I don't have to sit here and be insulted," Puck says standing. "I supposed to be in English now, so I must be going." Puck hold out his hand for the pass Coach Sylvester promised him.

"If I don't hand over the pass, what are you going to do?"

"I have other means at my disposal to ensure I do not receive a tardy on my record," Puck informs her.

"I'm sure you do. Which is good because you're going to have to employ them." Sue pulls out her journal. "Dismissed."

Puck huffs and stomps out.

**…**

Emma isn't sure why she agreed to this. She's fairly certain she doesn't know how to counsel someone about a personality switch. If that's even what happened. She's really not qualified to make that diagnosis. But those were the words Will used to describe what happened to Puck and Rachel.

She'd seen them around school and noticed a clothing change, but actually seeing the pair in action so to speak is a whole other experience.

Puck is perched in one chair looking attentive and respectful. He's wearing khakis and a sweater vest. Meanwhile Rachel is slumped in her chair, texting. She's wearing jeans, converse sneakers and a gray hoodie. The image is a bit unnerving. Especially because the last time either of them were in her office, they were doing exactly what the other is doing.

Maybe Will is right about the swapping thing.

"Before we begin," Emma starts. "I would just like to say that no one is making accusations or criticizing. It's just that your fellow glee clubbers have noticed odd behavior from the two of you this week and I was asked to check in, make sure everything is all right."

"Everything is just fine," Puck says. "Thank you for asking."

"What he says," Rachel adds, not looking up.

"Be that as it may," Emma continues. "There are some concerns that I feel need to be addressed."

"Such as?" Puck asks.

"Your wardrobe changes, for one."

Puck looks down at his clothing. "What's wrong with it? Do I not look like a respectable young man?"

"Oh you do, you do," Emma assures him. "It's just a bit different than what we're used to seeing you in."

"You look like a douche bag," Rachel mutters.

"Rachel Berry, words can hurt," Puck tells her. "You apologize this instant."

Rachel sighs. "I'm sorry…you look like a douche bag."

"You aren't a very nice bro," Puck replies.

"Guys, please, we're getting off topic."

Puck crosses his arms and faces away from Rachel.

"And your clothing choices are different than your usual fare as well, Rachel."

"So?"

Emma doesn't have a response to this. She sighs. She definitely doesn't have the training for this.

"There's nothing either of you want to talk about? Problems at home?"

"I resent that," Puck says. "Just because I was raised in a single parent household and Rachel has two gay dads, doesn't automatically mean we're going to have problems at home. The implications of that question is quite insulting."

"I'm sorry, Puck," Emma replies. "That wasn't my intention. It's just that many of the students I talk to do have problems at home. It's usually an excellent jumping off point."

"Apology accepted, I suppose."

"Rachel," Emma says. "Anything you'd like to discuss?"

"Nope."

Emma sighs again. "Fine. You both can go." She hands them hall passes. "But my door is always open if you ever want to talk. I'm always ready to listen."

"Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury," Puck says. "Though I don't foresee myself visiting you, I appreciate the sentiment."

He accepts the pass and walks out.

Rachel just grabs the pass and leaves.

Unsure what to think, Emma can only stare after them.

**…**

In glee, Puck and Rachel find themselves surrounded by the others.

"We know what's going on," Artie says.

Rachel looks up from her cell phone, bored.

"What are you guys talking about?" Puck asks.

"You guys have been acting like each other all week," Kurt says.

"It's creepy," Mercedes adds.

"You guys are creepy," Rachel says. "What is this? An intervention?"

Everyone looks at each other.

"Yeah, it's an intervention," Quinn says.

"I still think we should use lightning," Brittany offers.

"It's not raining out, Britt," Rachel tells her.

"Oh, well, then when it _does_ rain."

"I can't wait that long," Quinn announces.

"Neither can we," Kurt agrees.

"There's nothing that needs to be fixed," Puck says.

"Says you," Finn counters. "You're weirding us all out dude."

"Yeah."

"We just miss the old Rachel and Puck," Tina says.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Kurt pipes up. "But I agree with Tina. I miss the old Rachel."

"Your support is overwhelming, Hummel," Rachel replies.

"We should really be rehearsing," Puck interjects. "All that matters at the moment is that we're here to sing. We're losing valuable practice time right now debating this inconsequential issue. Where's Mr. Schue?"

"He's staying out of it," Mercedes says.

"He seems to be having the worst reaction out of all us," Mike says. "Maybe we should be concerned about that too."

"One crisis at a time," Tina says.

"Maybe we need to hit them both over the head," Santana suggests. "Knock some sense back into them."

"Whoa," Puck says. "Violence is never the answer."

"The first person that tries to hit me is going to be very sorry," Rachel growls.

Everyone, including Puck, takes a step back.

"Okay, so no violence then," Kurt agrees.

No one volunteers another idea.

"It seems we're at an impasse," Puck says. "I propose we all internally ponder a solution at a later date and work on our material for Regionals."

"No," Santana says. "We have to figure this out."

"Don't be like that, babe," Rachel tells her. "It's all good. The Rachosaurus Rex is doing just fine."

Mike, Kurt, Mercedes, Quinn and Santana all do an actual double take at those words. Finn's jaw actually drops, while Tina and Artie pinch each other to make sure they're awake. Brittany fist bumps Rachel.

Will then choose this moment to peek in. "Everything worked out?"

"I believe so, Mr. Schue," Puck says. "Though I have a feeling you wouldn't agree. Nonetheless I suggest we move onto more important issues. Regionals for example."

Will sighs in defeat. "Fine. Let's get to work."

**…**

Rachel is surprised when the doorbell rings that night. It's Santana for their usual after dinner routine. Rachel's worried about being able to keep up the façade while arguing. She's fully expecting Santana to keep pressing the issue.

Instead, they watch TV and make out on the couch. And when Rachel's hand strays into Santana's spankies, Santana simply grins and pulls Rachel up to her room.

**…**

Friday is the last day of this personality switch prank and for that, Rachel is extremely grateful. This has been an exhausting week. It has definitely put her acting skills to the test. She's certainly never agreeing to a week long prank again, no matter what Noah promises.

Though she is looking forward to collecting.

She's also glad this is the last day she'll be wearing jeans to school for a while. She misses her skirts.

**…**

Puck is more relieved than he'll ever admit that he's glad this whole prank is almost over. He knows it was his idea and he definitely thinks it's been epic, but he can admit, at least to himself, that he's worn out. Pretending to be someone else is tiring.

Maybe he should have picked someone more laid back. Being Rachel Berry is strenuous. He loves her like a bro, but walking a week in her shoes was just a little too much for him.

Next time he'll just have to settle with a one time prank; nothing long and drawn out.

**…**

At lunch, Santana decides to just embrace this new Rachel. She doesn't know what else to do. So she starts sexting during fourth and Rachel eagerly seeks her out during lunch.

They don't talk and Santana tries not to be too weirded out by the wardrobe or inelegant speech. She instead attempts to focus on the benefits of this 180; such as the apparent need of Rachel's to get her off multiple times before lunch is over. Santana certainly has no complaints about that.

**…**

Friday night is a relief. Puck and Rachel are once again hanging out at her house. Tonight they're comparing notes on the week and the success of the prank. Puck is more enthusiastic about everything than Rachel is. She's mostly worried about her girlfriend.

"It'll be fine, Rach," Puck assures her. "Once you tell her what it was all about. She's never minded your pranks before."

"Because she was exempt from them," Rachel reminds him. "This is very different."

"You worry too much, Berry. The cool thing about you guys is how you go with the flow or whatever. You need to relax and not worry about it. You're seeing her in the morning still, right?"

Rachel nods.

"Maybe you should meet her here so you can talk."

"That's not a bad idea, Noah," Rachel agrees. "That way when she yells at me, we won't have any spectators."

"That's the spirit."

"Or witnesses when she assaults me."

"She wouldn't do that," Puck protests.

"Perhaps not," Rachel replies. "But one like to be prepared for all contingencies."

Rachel texts Santana while she knows her girlfriend is still awake. She's relieved she can return to her normal mode of texting.

_Can we meet at my place tomorrow instead? _

She receives a response almost immediately.

_k_

"Excellent," Rachel says. "One more thing settled. So what are we doing tonight? Because I don't think I'm up for just hanging."

"Glad to hear it," Puck tells her. "Because I have an idea for a prank. Sort of a culmination to the week."

"Fine, let's hear it."

**…**

Rachel's thankful that Puck suggested another prank. She could use the distraction. She easily picks the lock and they're back in McKinley.

Rachel'll admit she's not entirely sure about this prank. And not just because it was Noah's idea. It sounds like a lot more work than _her_ usual pranks, but it sounds like he has it all planned out, so Rachel's going to try and go with the flow.

It's a week of firsts for her already. What's one more?

**…**

Hours later, they're done. Rachel vows not to agree to anything Noah suggests ever again. She wouldn't have thought it, but his ideas are more complicated than hers. If it wasn't for her daily regimen of exercise every morning, Rachel isn't sure she'd been able to pull this one off. Thank god, Noah actually took the time to plan the whole thing out. And god bless whoever came up with the idea of the nail gun. Because otherwise, Rachel has a feeling, they'd still be working. And she could use some sleep.

They quickly clean up and evacuate.

"You know we spend a lot of additional time at a place we claim to hate, Noah," Rachel says.

"It's a different place at night."

"I suppose that's true," Rachel allows. "But it's something to ponder."

"Well, now that you're Rachel Berry again, I guess you can do that."

"Yes, I believe I can."

**…**

Saturday morning, Puck is gone by the time Santana arrives. Even though they've seemed to reach a tentative accord about her sharing a bed with Noah, Rachel doesn't want to push her boundaries more than she already has this week.

Rachel is sipping coffee in the kitchen when Santana walks in. She goes to the cupboard and gets her own mug. Rachel just watches her pour herself a cup.

"I owe you a massive apology," Rachel says once Santana's sitting across from her.

"Do you?"

"Just let me explain."

Santana nods.

"Noah wanted to attempt what he called an epic prank. He's apparently never had someone to do so with."

"What about Hudson?"

"Evidently Finn wasn't a proper candidate."

Santana snorts. "I could have told you that."

Rachel ignores her. "So he suggested we act as if we experienced a freaky Friday type moment for the week. We'd pretend to be each other and see how everyone reacts. And then we'll go in on Monday like last week never happened."

Santana doesn't say anything.

"I realize that I should have spoken to you about it, but I didn't want to chance the prank. As I'm sure you are aware, when I commit to something, I do it fully."

Santana nods.

"However, I also realize I may have inadvertently done some damage to our relationship, which of course was never my intention. There were multiple moments throughout the week where I was desperate to tell you, but I promised Noah that I would give it the full Rachel Berry intensity and so I couldn't."

"What did Puck promise you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, Rach," Santana says. "You would have had a lot of concerns about this. So the only way Puck would be able to convince you is a bribe. So I ask again, what did Puck promise you?"

"A karaoke bro night."

"That would do it."

"You understand, I couldn't say no after he offered that," Rachel explains.

"You wouldn't be the girl I love if you did."

"Exactly. I wouldn't be-I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Rachel asks.

Santana winces. That wasn't how she'd planned on telling Rachel. "I love you."

Rachel just stares. Seconds become minutes.

"I can't stay here," Santana says, standing. "I shouldn't have-I need to go."

"No wait," Rachel says, grabbing Santana's arm. "I love you too. I just didn't expect you to say it out loud."

"Ever?"

"I've known for a while, Santana," Rachel replies. "You might not say it, but you show it plenty. Trust me."

"Yeah?"

"You do."

"So you weren't flirting with those girls to teach me a lesson?"

"Of course not," Rachel tells her. "That's not how Rachosaurus Rex rolls." Rachel chuckles at Santana's horrified look. "Sorry. Couldn't resist. But no, I wasn't trying to teach you a lesson. I was just playing a part. I'm sorry about Michelle Jamieson, but she approached me and I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"You know?"

"Santana, please," Rachel says. "Do you know how many times she's shoved her cleavage in my face this past month?"

Santana growls.

"Neither do I," Rachel continues. "Because I've lost track. That's how many times she's done it."

"She's dead," Santana says.

"Leave it be," Rachel replies. "It'll piss her off more to know her efforts are still unsuccessful. She prides herself on having the best rack in McKinley, you know."

"I'm starting to regret leaving you alone with Puck so often."

**…**

Monday morning Rachel shows up at McKinley wearing her usual sweater and skirt ensemble. She walks to her locker as if nothing's different.

"Rachel!"

Rachel turns just in time to receive a full tackling hug from Brittany. They slam into the bank of lockers.

"Morning, Britt," she manages to wheeze out. "Problems breathing."

Brittany releases her and claps her hands. "It worked. There wasn't any lightning this weekend, but I knew it'd work anyhow."

"I suppose it did."

"I'm glad you're back, Rach," Brittany continues. "S missed you. A lot."

"She did?"

"Yeah, she was really sad Friday night, but now that you're back, she'll be happy again. Right?"

"I believe so, Britt," Rachel replies. "I plan on making it up to her. I promise."

"Good. I knew you would," Brittany says. "Cause you're a really nice girlfriend."

"Thanks Brittany."

**…**

Puck is back in jeans and a t-shirt as he struts through the halls. He stops to flirt with some Cheerios.

"Hey, dude," Finn says, approaching.

"Hudson, can't you see I'm busy?"

Finn eyes the giggling Cheerios. "Yeah, I can see that. But did you hear? Someone nailed all the furniture in the teacher's lounge to the ceiling."

"Really? Awesome."

"Didn't you always want to do that?"

"Yeah and you said it wasn't possible," Puck replied. "So now I can say, I told you so. Cause it so obvious _is_."

"Yeah. Yeah. Too bad you didn't pull it off yourself."

"Yeah, too bad," Puck says. "Now scram. Cindy, Brandi and I were having a very important discussion."

"Whatever, dude."

**…**

"I'm impressed with your carpentry skills," Santana tells Rachel between third and fourth.

"That was all Noah," Rachel replies. "I was just along for the ride."

"I figured as much," Santana says. "For some reason, this one just didn't feel like you."

"I didn't realize my pranks had personality."

"Well, they do."

"Hmmm," Rachel replies. "That's an interesting concept. I suppose if inanimate objects can seemingly have personalities than actions could as well. Or more specifically concepts that require the follow up of actions. Either way, it begs the question, do my pranks have a certain flavor that is unique to me. And if so, does that change when I'm exposed to other influences? And will Noah's ideas be affected by mine?"

Santana leans in for a kiss. Rachel tangles her tongue with Santana's and when the pair finally break apart, they once again have an audience that they easily ignore.

"I've missed those rants," Santana tells her.

Rachel grins. "I've missed them too."

"Walk you to class?"

Rachel nods and curls their fingers together. Linking pinkies is strictly a BrittanyandSantana thing. Disregarding the stares, Santana walks Rachel to class.


	8. Games People Play

**Title:** Games People Play  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, OFC, Brittany, Sue, Quinn, OFC, Puck, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Figgins, OFC, OMC  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Santana's trying not to let her jealousy show too much, but Michelle Jamieson is making it very difficult.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~5,600  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Does Brittany's last name count?  
><strong><br>**

Santana is fuming. She and Brittany are wandering the halls before class starts when Santana decides they should stop and say hi to Rachel. Except when they finally do find her at her locker, Michelle Jamieson is practically draped over Rachel.

The only thing that stops her from causing the soccer player permanent bodily harm is that she trusts Rachel. Oh and Brittany dragging her down the hall probably helps too.

This has been happening for over a week now. Apparently Michelle took Rachel's flirting when she was being Puck as an invitation. Despite Rachel's repeated refusals and brush offs, Michelle isn't giving up.

In fact this week, she seems to have upped the ante. There seems to be a lot more touching and a complete lack of personal space. It's taking every ounce of will power Santana has to not do something drastic.

It isn't that she doesn't trust Rachel, because she totally does. But that doesn't mean she likes to see _her_girl being hit on constantly. A person can only stand so much.

Santana blames herself. Saying, I love you, seems to have amped up her possessiveness. Even though everyone _knows_they're together from the random make out sessions in the halls, Santana still wants another more prominent indication. She wonders if she can convince Rachel to get a tattoo. Of course it wouldn't be anywhere remotely visible because it wouldn't bode well for Rachel's career later on, but just knowing that it's there might be enough.

Maybe Santana should bring it up this weekend. It's easier to convince Rachel of things when they're both naked.

**…**

It's no better at lunch. Michelle is once again talking to Rachel. Despite the fact that Rachel is sitting between Tina and Mercedes, Michelle is still too close for Santana's comfort. She continues to watch, trying to kill Michelle with her brain.

"You should just go over there," Quinn says. "It's not like it's a secret or something."

"No way," Santana replies. "I refuse to be _that_girl."

"But sitting here irate and shooting daggers at her is better?" Quinn questions. "Stop being a wuss and go claim your woman."

"I've already done that today," Santana says. "We spent most of the time before third making out."

"I know," Quinn tells her. "It put me off food for weeks. Which is probably a good thing, anyway. So thanks."

"I thought it was hot," Brittany adds.

"Thanks, B."

"You really need to tell that bitch to back off," Quinn says.

"I told Rach to just let me know when she gets to be too much and I'd take care of it," Santana explains. "For which I got a ten minute lecture about how Rachel can take care of herself."

"Only ten minutes?" Quinn asks.

"Watch it, Fabray," Santana growls. "Just because _I_can't do anything to you, doesn't mean I can't get Rachel to."

"Oooh, now that's scary."

"I'd be scared if I was you, Quinn," Brittany says. "Rachel could do _stuff_to you."

"Thanks for the warning, B."

**…**

Santana manages to catch Rachel after school before Cheerios' practice.

"Are you able to come over tonight?" Rachel asks.

"Hopefully. Depends on how long Coach decides to torture us today."

"I'm going to assume no then," Rachel says. "Based off recent circumstances."

"Yeah. It's been extra brutal lately," Santana agrees.

"And I had such _plans_for tonight."

"Don't do that to me," Santana says. "You know damn well I'd be going home with you this instant if I could."

"I apologize," Rachel says. "It's just…I miss you."

Santana sighs. "Me too, babe. Me too."

**…**

Feeling particularly frustrated, Rachel's in her backyard throwing knives. She's been into the impalement arts for almost five years now and she's gotten pretty good. She in fact is participating in a competition this weekend in Columbus.

It's another reason she's frustrated. Santana was supposed to come with her, but Coach Sylvester is dragging the Cheerios to an exhibition. Attendance is mandatory. So they'll barely see each other this weekend.

Another blade hits its target. Out of knives, Rachel walks to the wooden targets her fathers set up and removes them. She counts off an extra ten paces and begins throwing again.

**…**

When Michelle Jamieson approaches the Berry household, it doesn't look like anyone's home. She rings the doorbell, but there's no answer. She does however, hear noises coming from the backyard. Straining, she can make out a thud every few seconds. Curious, she goes to investigate.

She finds Rachel Berry looking sexy as hell throwing knives across the yard into a wooden board. Michelle actually stops, blinks a couple times and then shakes her head just to make sure she isn't seeing things. She already found the girl hot, but this badassery is just too much.

She waits until Rachel has thrown all six before speaking, "Hey Rachel."

Startled, Rachel turns. "Oh, hello, Michelle. What are you doing here?"

"Was in the neighborhood, thought I'd drop by."

"Oh. Well, normally a phone call would be the appropriate choice."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just there isn't that much time to talk at school," Michelle replies.

"You seemed to do just fine at lunch," Rachel tells her.

"Nervous habit," Michelle says. "Despite what I thought before, you gleeks aren't so bad."

"Thanks for the validation." Rachel walks to the target and removes the knives. "So is there a specific reason you've shown up at my house unannounced and wandered into the backyard?"

"I really am sorry, Rach."

"Please don't call me that."

"Rachel, then," Michelle continues. "I was just kinda hoping we could hang out. Or something."

"Michelle, I'm sorry if I misled you before," Rachel tells her. "But I have no interest in dating you. I'm quite happy with Santana."

"I get that. I do," Michelle assures her. "Though honestly, I don't understand why. She used to pick on you mercilessly."

"People change," Rachel replies. "Besides, I don't believe in holding grudges. It isn't healthy."

"So maybe you and I could sit down and watch a movie or something?"

Rachel sighs. "Fine. We'll talk. But just for an hour or so."

Michelle follows Rachel into the house. In the kitchen, Rachel points to the cupboard.

"Glasses are up there. Help yourself to something to drink. I'm just going to put these away." She holds up the knives as Michelle nods and heads up to her room.

Michelle counts to ten and then follows.

**…**

Rachel is carefully putting each knife back in its individual slot in her holder when someone grabs her and spins her around. Before Rachel can register anything, Michelle's lips are pressed firmly against hers.

Reacting purely on instinct, Rachel grabs Michelle's wrists, yanks them away from her. She then keeps a hold of the right one and spins Michelle around until she's pinned the arm behind Michelle's back. The left arm is now flailing about trying to get out of it.

"You are so fucking hot right now," Michelle says. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you," Rachel replies. "It would be advisable that you stop struggling."

"You're enjoying it."

"You're a bit delusional," Rachel says. "What exactly were you thinking, practically assaulting me like that?"

"If you can give Lopez a chance, why not me? I never even _did_anything to you." Michelle asks. "I just figured if you knew what a good kisser I am, you'd change your mind."

"Unfortunately, it didn't."

"C'mon. Just think about it," Michelle tells her. "I'm hot. You're hot. No one would know. And it's not like your little girlfriend is all that innocent. Everyone knows she and the blonde bimbo still fool around."

Everything Michelle just said raises Rachel's ire, so she once again reacts without thinking. She drags Michelle to her bed, but throws her on the floor. Before she can react and stand, Rachel has pulled out her replacement handcuffs and snapped them around Michelle's wrists.

"Holy crap, woman," Michelle gasps. "You just got even hotter. I should have known you'd be into the kinky stuff. How else are you going to keep the chica interested?"

"Michelle," Rachel says. "It would be a very wise move for you to stop talking, right now."

"Will you kiss me if I do?"

"I will not."

"Well what will you give me?"

"I won't cause you serious bodily harm for sneak attack kissing me," Rachel replies.

"No offense, Rachel," Michelle tells her. "But I don't believe for a second you could cause me serious harm."

"You're allowed your opinion."

"Can I get up now?"

"Here's what's going to happen," Rachel says. "We're going to walk downstairs and you're going to leave. And you are going to stop hitting on me. I don't know how I could convey my aggravation any more clearly."

"Hey, you flirted with me."

"Which was an error in judgment and I apologize."

Rachel allows Michelle to stand, but keeps the cuffs on. They slowly walk downstairs to the front door where Rachel unlocks the cuffs.

"Good bye, Michelle."

"When you finally wise up to your girlfriend's cheating ways, come find me."

**…**

When Rachel tells Santana about the incident later, she curses for almost five minutes straight.

"Are you done?" Rachel asks.

"For now," Santana replies. "You okay?"

"Of course. As I told you, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"And yet you let us slushie you for years."

"One chooses one's battles," Rachel replies. "Besides, I don't believe in resorting to violence to solve things."

"But handcuffs are okay?"

"Well, perhaps I didn't think that part through," Rachel allows.

"I'm starting to think your badassery is affecting your brain."

Rachel actually pauses and thinks. "Perhaps. I'm blaming you though."

"The hell you are," Santana replies. "_You're_the one that felt to need to shamelessly flirt with the sluttiest girls in school."

"I flirt with you, don't I?"

"You are so lucky I'm not there in front of you right now, Berry."

"Why? I'm not scared of you anymore, Lopez," Rachel replies. "Now that I know I can take you."

"Tough words for a midget."

"You're lucky you're not in front of _me_, now."

**…**

The next day, Santana gives Rachel a ride to school. It's something they've been doing lately. It's a way to be more coupley without turning into something that makes Santana want to gag. It helps that Brittany's there as well.

They're both rather annoyed this morning since they're weekend plans have been ruined by one Sue Sylvester. Attending the conference isn't optional for the juniors and seniors. Apparently, the younger ones aren't worth it yet.

Santana had been planning on accompanying Rachel to her competition this weekend. It's the first one Rachel's gone to since they've started dating. And Santana had been looking forward to seeing her girlfriend in action and not just in the backyard. Besides, determined, weapon wielding Rachel is hot as hell.

At school, Santana walks in with Rachel, though her pinky is still linked with Brittany's. Santana plans on sticking close to Rachel. She wants to make sure Michelle Jamieson keeps her lips to herself.

"I took care of it," Rachel says.

"That bitch doesn't seem to understand what no means," Santana replies. "Besides, B pointed out that I've been lax in claiming what's mine."

"Santana Lopez, just because we're dating doesn't mean you own me," Rachel huffs.

"Yeah, but you're still _my_girlfriend."

"Yeah," Brittany adds.

"Thanks, Britt," Rachel says. "But I'm still not getting a tattoo, Santana."

"I never said you had to."

"But you were thinking it."

"I'd get one too," Santana mutters.

**…**

Following Coach Sylvester around the Columbus Convention Center, Santana is beyond annoyed. Being stuck on a bus with her fellow Cheerios when they're not going to a competition is boring. Or maybe it's because she's in the same city as Rachel. So close yet so far. Though Santana wonders if Rachel is competing here. There are only two places in the city where she could be. Santana didn't pay attention to the details; that's Rachel's deal.

So about twenty minutes into the acrobatic session that Coach is forcing them to watch, Santana excuses herself and Brittany to the bathroom. Unfortunately, Quinn insists on coming along.

"Where are you going, Lopez?" Quinn hisses. "Bathrooms are this way."

"Shut up, Fabray," Santana snaps. "No one asked you to come with."

"We're going to look for Rachel," Brittany exclaims.

"Why the hell is Berry here?"

"Just keep your opinions to yourself."

Quinn shrugs and follows Santana and Brittany as they maneuver through the crowds. They eventually stop at a huge table and Santana grabs a program. Glancing over it, she checks her watch.

Brittany is reading over Santana's shoulder and whoops. Santana shushes her and once again, they're off.

It feels like a maze to Quinn, so she sticks close to Santana. Quinn wonders if Coach will miss them soon. Long bathroom visits aren't in Sue Sylvester's vocabulary.

They finally stop in a small gymnasium. Santana and Brittany find three seats open and sit.

Quinn follows and looks around. They're apparently at a knife throwing competition.

"What the hell are we doing here?"

"Just shut up and watch."

Currently there is a guy about their age throwing things at a target. He must have been doing well because the crowd seems excited. Once finished, he bows and the cheering increases.

"That was Kevin Barnes," the announcer says. "Our final competitor is our champion for the past two years, Rachel Berry."

Now the crowd goes insane. Santana and Brittany jump up and add to the chaos. Quinn just stays in her seat. Did she hear that right? Rachel Berry?

And sure enough Rachel Berry walks out onto the floor, looking calm and confident. She bows once and steps up to the line. And then it's a flash of flying medal as she releases blade after blade. It happens so fast, Quinn isn't even sure how many knives Rachel throws.

Quinn didn't think it was possible, but the crowd is cheering even louder. She's beginning to worry about her hearing. Rachel bows once, waves and then skips off.

The crowd quiets and Quinn leans over to Santana. "Now what?"

"The judges are scoring everyone," she replies.

**…**

Meanwhile, Sue is looking around for her Cheerio captain and her lieutenants. They've been gone far too long. Her first instinct is that they got lost, but that's only plausible if Brittany was leading them. And Sue knows that would never happen.

The portion she was most interested in is over, so Sue goes to investigate the disappearance. The remaining Cheerios trail behind her. Ladyface is at her side, which he's been doing a lot lately. Sue wonders if it means she's losing her touch; he used to cower in her presence. At least he keeps quiet as they fight through the throngs of idiots.

**…**

"The judges have made their decision," the announcer says. "The runner up is… Kevin Barnes."

A subdued Kevin Barnes stands and walks to the judges table. He's handed a small trophy. He shakes each judge's hand and sits back down.

"And the winner," the announcer continues. "For the third straight year…"

The crowd begins to cheer and Santana almost misses the announcement of her girlfriend's name.

"Rachel Berry!"

A smiling Rachel bounces up the judge's table and accepts a large trophy. She shakes each judge's hand enthusiastically, curtseys to the crowd and returns to her seat.

"That's all ladies and gentlemen," the announcer says. "Thank you for attending the Ohio Junior Knife Throwing Competition and we'll see you next year."

Brittany jumps up and runs over to Rachel, engulfing her in a bear hug that almost knocks them both over. Santana and Quinn follow at a more sedated pace, though Santana can't keep a huge grin off her face.

"What are you guys doing here?" Rachel asks after greeting Santana with a kiss while ignoring the gagging noise Quinn makes.

"Coach has us watching some crazy acrobatic troupe," Santana says.

"Oh sure, the Amazing Milanos."

"You know them?"

"Oh, yes, they win almost every year. They're considered some of the best in the country."

"Maybe we should get back and watch the performance," Quinn says.

"Too late, Q," Sue says appearing behind them. "You already missed the finale."

"Coach," Quinn says. "I can explain."

"No need, Fabray," Sue replies. "I have eyes. I assume this was your doing, Lopez."

"It was, Coach."

Sue picks up Rachel's trophy and examines it. "Impressive, Rapunzel," she says. "_This_is a useful skill to have."

"Thank you, Coach Sylvester."

"Nice job, Lopez," Sue says. "She might actually be worth keeping around."

"So is it okay if I spend the rest of the day with my first place girlfriend?"

"I suppose I can allow it," Sue tells her. "But it's only because she won. A winner should only associate with other winners. However, you have to do one thing for me, Cher."

"What's that?" Rachel asks.

"I missed your performance. I'd like to see an encore."

Rachel looks around the gymnasium. It's empty except for them, though the targets are still up.

"That's fine with me."

"Good," Sue says. "I need a volunteer for Celine to throw knives at."

Brittany's hand shoots up.

"Sorry, Brittany, but no," Rachel says. "Remember? You're never able to stand still. Last time I almost took off a finger, because you moved."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Santana should," Quinn says. "She's Berry's girlfriend, after all."

"Thank you for volunteering, Q," Sue says. "You're an excellent example of a captain."

"But Coach, I never-"

"Where do you want her?" Sue asks Rachel.

"Just in front of the target is fine."

"Q."

Quinn looks at Coach Sylvester and sees she's serious. Quinn sighs and walks to the target. Turning, she stands until her back is pressed against it.

"Quinn," Rachel says. "I recommend keeping your eyes closed. It'll minimize your nervousness."

"Fine. Just get it over, Berry."

"Stay just like that Quinn," Rachel tells her. "I'll tell you when to move."

Rachel steps up to the line and takes a deep breath. She raises the first blade and lets go. One by one she lets the five knives fly. The first hits just above Quinn's right hand and then left. The next one is next to her left knee and then the right. The final one hits the wood just above Quinn's head.

"All clear," Rachel calls out.

Quinn lets out a sigh of relief. She'd heard and felt the blades hitting the target, but she'd kept her eyes closed because she didn't think she could stand seeing the knife flying towards her.

"You should meet my mother the next time she visits, Berry," Sue says. "She used to be quite the knife thrower in her youth."

"I'd be honored, Coach."

"Lopez, you're dismissed. The rest of you, we have another competition to watch."

Kurt waves hesitantly as he leaves.

Brittany gives Rachel one last bear hug and then kisses Santana on the cheek before skipping off after Coach Sylvester.

"Lopez. Berry," Quinn says, before following.

**…**

Monday morning Rachel is greeted by two Cheerios. Years of slushies make her cringe in anticipation, but both simply want to talk to her. Nothing they're saying is all that important to Rachel, but she's never opposed to attention, so she nods as they chatter on.

Santana's waiting at Rachel's locker. "Scram, bimbos."

The Cheerios scurry off, glancing over their shoulders at Rachel.

"What the hell was that about?"

"I couldn't say," Rachel replies. "But I never turn down people fawning over me. You know that."

"Sometimes your ego scares me."

**…**

Rachel's actually starting to become paranoid. She can constantly feel everyone's eyes on her. As a rule, she's not opposed to this, but having the attention of McKinley has never worked well for Rachel Berry. It usually means some sort of humiliation.

She's slightly reassured that there's nothing nasty in store for her because of her girlfriend's reputation. However, she also knows the students of McKinley seem to take a perverse delight in embarrassing each other.

Guard up, she cautiously continues her day.

**…**

Right before lunch, Puck grabs Rachel. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you know how to throw knives," Puck says. "You gotta teach me."

"Who told you I know how to throw knives?"

"The whole school's talking about it. If the slushies hadn't already stopped, they definitely would after today. Now people _really_don't want to piss you off."

"Damn Cheerios," Rachel mutters.

"I'm still pissed at you for not telling me."

"You never asked," Rachel tells him.

"_Who_asks that?"

"Brittany did," Rachel replies.

"She doesn't count."

"I'll be sure to tell Santana you said that."

"You know what I mean, Berry," Puck replies.

"Noah, while I'm more than qualified to assist people with their singing, I am most definitely not qualified to teach someone how to throw knives. If you'd like, I can put you in touch with my former instructor, Mr. Raymond. Though to be honest, I think you should try and master those nun chucks first, don't you think?"

Puck stares at her for a moment.

"What?"

"I was just wondering if your badass side and your mature, responsible side ever get into arguments in your head. And if so, who usually wins?"

"Very funny, Noah," Rachel replies. "I'm going to sit and eat lunch now."

**…**

Marisa Lawson has been trying to approach Rachel Berry for over a week now. But every time she tries, Michelle Jamieson is there, hanging off her.

In fact, Marisa has noticed a lot more people flocking around Rachel lately.

She doesn't know what to think about that.

Marisa is currently watching Rachel talk to Puck, a football player, when she's approached by a blonde cheerleader.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Are you waiting for Rachel?"

"Yeah. Kinda," Marisa replies.

"Is it cause she throws knives?"

"Not _just_cause."

"You're not gonna ask her out, are you? Cause she's dating Santana."

"I know. I just…" Marisa sighs. "She's just really awesome."

"She is."

"And when she was flirting with me before, I just thought maybe I had a chance," Marisa explains.

"Yeah, Rach was acting kinda weird that week."

"I figured that out," Marisa says. "But I've still been wanting to talk to her. Just because."

"I understand. I like talking to Rachel too. But if you start hitting on her like that crazy soccer chick, I'll be forced to throw you in the sewers."

Marisa isn't expecting that. "Uh, okay," she replies, feeling stunned.

"Okay. See you later."

The blonde bounces away, leaving Marisa to stare after her.

**…**

As expected, the topic of conversation at lunch is Rachel's weekend activities.

"Even though I saw it with my own eyes, I still don't believe it," Kurt says.

"Neither can I."

"Mercedes," Rachel says. "You weren't even there."

"No, but Kurt showed me a video on his phone."

"Kurt!"

"I figured you wouldn't mind," Kurt replies. "Please don't hurt me."

Rachel sighs. "It's fine. I just wish you would have told me you did that."

"Kurt says this is the third year in a row you've won," Tina says. "That is so cool."

"Thanks."

"How come you never said anything?" Artie asks.

"It's no big deal."

"It is," Kurt insists. "We all thought you only lived and breathed singing."

"And where'd you find time to learn in between school, glee and all your lessons?" Mercedes asks.

"There are twenty-four usable hours in every day," Rachel replies.

"Yeah, I guess," Tina says. "But the rest of us were using those hours to be teenagers."

"Yes, well, we all make choices."

**…**

Rachel is leaving the lunch room when she's approached by Marisa Lawson, one of the girls she flirted with as her stint as Noah.

"Hi Rachel," she says giddily.

"Hello Marisa," Rachel replies. "What can I do for you?"

"Everyone's been talking about you today," Marisa informs Rachel.

"I've noticed," Rachel replies, wryly. "Why is that exactly?"

"All the Cheerios are talking about how badass you are cause you know how to throw knives."

Rachel sighs. "People are so easily impressed."

"So it's true?"

"It is," Rachel confirms. "Though I didn't want anyone to know."

"Why not? It just makes you ten thousand times awesomer."

Rachel cringes at Marisa's grammar. "Perhaps, but that doesn't matter to me."

"Really?" Marisa asks. "Cause a few weeks ago, when you were dressing different-"

"I apologize if I led you on, Marisa," Rachel says. "That was never my intention. I was simply...trying something. And I've heard you're showing excellent promise as a freshman."

"Wow, thanks. That means a lot coming from you," Marisa says. "Wait. Does that mean you lied about that Rachosaurus Sex stuff?"

Rachel nods. "While I am most definitely dating Santana, we have never engaged in a foursome with Quinn Fabray and Brittany Pierce."

"Too bad," Marisa replies. "That might be the hottest thing I've ever heard."

"Thank you?"

"Listen, I know you're dating Santana or whatever," Marisa says. "But if you ever break up. I'm interested."

"You are?"

"I have been ever since I heard you sing last year at Sectionals."

"Ah, yes, well…"

"I'm not asking for anything. I just had to let you know. You know?"

"I do," Rachel nods. "Thanks, I suppose. Good luck in the show next weekend."

"Thanks. It's not the lead or anything, but it's still a pretty big part for a freshman. I'll see you around?"

"You will."

**…**

After school, Rachel is gathering her things and waiting for Santana when Michelle Jamieson approaches her.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Michelle," Rachel says. "If I was you, I wouldn't be here right now."

"The school's all a buzz about you today."

"Yes, well, it must be a slow gossip day."

"I just wanted to let you know that my offer is still on the table," Michelle says.

"There's no need," Rachel replies. "I won't be taking you up on it."

"I'm not looking for a girlfriend, Rachel," Michelle continues. "But I'm willing to bet that Lopez is the only carpet you've munched-"

"Must you be so vulgar?"

"-and I think it be good for you to experience your other options."

"She doesn't want to experience your options," Santana growls coming up behind Rachel.

"Lopez."

"This is the only warning you're getting from me, Jamieson. Stay the hell away from my girlfriend."

"Hey. She approached me first."

"I don't care. Back off. Or else."

"You can't touch me," Michelle counters. "Sylvester will have your ass for fighting. Especially with me. The girls soccer team is the only other winning team in this dump."

"For you," Santana growls. "I'll make an exception."

"Michelle," Rachel interrupts. "What do I have to do to convince you I'm not interested?"

"You've already given her enough evidence, babe," Santana says.

"Obviously not, if she's still here," Rachel replies.

"I'm just waiting for you to wise up to this one's nefarious ways," Michelle says. "Later, Rachel."

**…**

Wednesday morning, Rachel knocks on Coach Sylvester's door. Brittany told her that the Coach wanted to see her.

"Have a seat, Berry," Sue says.

Rachel does so.

"I hear you've been having issues with an unwanted admirer. Brittany told me," Sue continues upon seeing Rachel's confused look.

"That would be correct," Rachel replies. "Though the argument could be made that it's my fault. I did make the first move."

"Because you and Puckerman were attempting to convince people you'd switched personalities," Sue says.

"Uh, yes," Rachel says. "How did you know?"

"I figured it out while talking to the both of you during," Sue explains. "You're lucky it ended when it did, because I was prepared to take steps because of the affect it was having on my Cheerios."

"Yes, well-"

"Berry, let me be honest with you," Sue says. "When Lopez started dating you, I had her checked for a concussion. It was the only explanation for the severe lapse of judgment. However, after observing you closely, I realized that I may have underestimated you. I already knew you were a bit of a spitfire, but these past few months you've showed quite the backbone. The knife throwing is just the sprinkles on the icing of the cake, in my mind."

"Thank you?"

"Which is why I'm willing to interfere with your pitiful lives just a bit."

"I don't exactly see how-"

"I'll be having a word with Coach Jordon about her captain's behavior. I believe that will nip the problem in the bud."

"Thank you, Coach Sylvester," Rachel says. "I appreciate it, even if it isn't exactly for me."

Sue smirks. "I almost like you, Berry. You're a lot of things, but at least you're not a moron. Dismissed."

**…**

Principal Figgins is beginning to regret his open door policy towards his staff. Though he supposes he should be grateful that Sue's not arguing with Will Schuester for once. He can only hear so many hair insults before wanting to tear his own out.

"Sue," Figgins says. "You know damn well, the faculty isn't allowed to dictate who students date."

"Her captain is harassing one of my star Cheerios and it's affecting her performance. I demand that Tasha control her players."

"Michelle is allowed to talk to whomever she likes," Tasha replies. "And unlike your so called Cheerios, my players don't harass other students relentlessly."

"Michelle is."

"Turnabout is fair play."

"Jamieson is harassing Lopez's girlfriend for no reason, and I want it to stop."

"Let me get this straight," Figgins says, finally. "You've come here expecting me to mediate your students' lesbian dramas?"

"Essentially."

"Sue, please leave my office."

"Harassment is a serious issue," Sue insists.

"I agree. And I'd be more sympathetic if your Cheerios were saints, but they're far from it, Sue," Figgins says. "Have them make a formal complaint and I'll see what I can do. Otherwise, get out."

"This isn't over," Sue tells Figgins. "With you either, Tasha."

"Nice talking to you Sue," Tasha calls after her.

**…**

"So you went crying to your mommy, Lopez," Michelle says, finding Santana at her locker after school.

"What the hell are you talking about, Jamieson?"

"Coach Jordon asked me to stop bothering you and your little girlfriend, today," Michelle explains. "Seems Coach Sylvester is on a rampage in your behalf."

"Well, I didn't ask her to," Santana replies.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"I do," Rachel says, walking up to the pair. "Since I'm the one that went to Coach Sylvester."

"You didn't," Santana says.

"I did."

"Oh Rachel," Michelle says. "I'm starting to think you don't like me."

"I've been thinking it over, Michelle," Rachel says. "And for the life of me, I can't figure out why you're so into me. I mean I know _why_you would be, I'm talented, intelligent, flexible, badass, and hot. But I've been those things for a while. Your interest in me seems to stem off of Santana's interest. Which begs the question, why."

Santana can only stare as Rachel and Michelle face off. She can tell that Rachel's theory isn't that far off and so desperate to know why, she keeps quiet.

Michelle breaks first. "Fine," she sighs. "Your guys' freshman year, my twin brother asked Lopez out. Not only did she say no, but she humiliated him in the middle of the lunch room. He's been a loner ever since. I've been waiting years for revenge. When Lopez became serious about you, I saw my chance."

"I see," Rachel says. "And where is your brother now?"

"Getting ready to leave, I'm sure."

"Will you please summon him here?" Rachel asks.

"Why?"

"Because Santana is going to apologize to him."

"I'm what?" Santana exclaims.

"I know her brother, Santana," Rachel says. "He's a lovely young man, but he's also considered a bigger loser than myself. And if that was your doing, you owe him an apology." Rachel turns to Michelle who has just finished texting. "I know it's a weak gesture, but I hope it'll be enough."

"That's his call, not mine."

"Fair enough."

**…**

Moments later, Matthew Jamieson is standing in front of them. Santana vaguely recognizes him, though she's not sure if it's a memory or if she's just seen him around.

"Hello, Matthew," Rachel says.

"Hi Rachel."

"Michelle was just informing us of your history with Santana."

"Michelle," he hisses.

"I was trying to avenge you, dumbass."

"Santana is no longer the über bitch she was freshman year," Rachel says. "And so, if it's all right with you, she wants to apologize for her previous, thoughtless actions."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Santana shrugs. "I'm sorry. I was just a stupid freshman trying to be popular. I shouldn't have turned you down so viciously. But in my defense, you probably shouldn't have asked me out in front of everyone."

"Perhaps," Matthew says. "I am glad you said no, though. You're way too bitchy for me."

"That's probably true," Santana allows.

"So you'll be leaving me alone, now?" Rachel asks Michelle.

"Yeah, I guess," Michelle replies. "Though, I wasn't kidding about finding you hot, Rachel. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

With that Michelle drags Matthew away.

"You bet I do," Rachel mutters.

"Jesus, that's it," Santana says. "You are _so_getting that tattoo."

"It's your fault that we were even in this situation," Rachel tells her.

"Oh please, like it's my fault Jamieson wanted to avenge her brother."

"Well, if you were a bit nicer-"

"Then you wouldn't be with me," Santana interrupts. "And you know it."

"That's not true," Rachel says. "But I'm still not getting a tattoo."


	9. Ink and Gossip

**Title:** Ink and Gossip  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Will  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "Why is everyone surprised that I don't like stupid, slutty girls draping themselves all over _my_ girlfriend?"  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.  
><strong><br>**

Rachel's incredibly relieved that it's Friday night and that it's just her and Noah. Ever since Michelle Jamieson, Santana has been a bit possessive. It's a complete 180 from when they first started dating where they pretty much ignored each other, unless Santana wanted to make out.

It probably doesn't help that Michelle is still randomly flirting with Rachel. It's usually just a wink while passing in the halls, but it's enough to irk Santana. Also, a few of the Cheerios have been extremely touchy feely lately. It's great for Rachel's ego, no so good for her relationship.

Now Santana is practically glued to Rachel's side. And since where ever Santana is, Brittany is, Rachel essentially has two Cheerio shaped shadows following her around. She feels like she hasn't had a moment alone.

Rachel was half expecting Santana to suggest cancelling their usual separate Friday nights instead of attending the Cheerios' party.

Thankfully, Brittany seemed to sense Rachel's exasperation and dragged Santana to the party, literally.

Rachel's also surprised that Noah hasn't suggested crashing the party. Maybe when he gets a bit more drunk.

**…**

Puck is astonished that Rachel is actually drinking tonight, really drinking. When she'd first told him to bring extra beer, he thought she was joking. And yet here they sit, getting smashed together like proper bros.

He knows Rachel's been having some issues with Santana and that it's most likely the reason for the drinking, but he's not complaining. He only hopes that they work out whatever's going on. He'd hate it if they broke up.

Oddly, Rachel's been rather quiet tonight. They're watching TV and it's obvious that she's not paying attention. Therefore, he's been waiting for the patented Rachel Berry monologue explaining the situation. They've been sitting and drinking for almost two hours and there hasn't really been a peep out of Rachel. It's a bit unnerving.

Puck bites the bullet and asks, "So how's it going with you and S?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Puck blinks and then starts to scan the room. Rachel Berry doesn't want to talk about it? Is he being punk'd?

**…**

"Something's bothering you, Rach," Puck tries. "Just talk about it already. The wait's killing me."

Two hours later, Rachel is still eerily silent as she sips cheap beer.

"Then stop waiting," Rachel snaps back.

"C'mon," Puck says. "I'm your bro. I'm here to help."

Rachel sighs. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"

"Probably."

"Santana's driving me crazy."

"What?"

"She won't leave me alone," Rachel explains. "It used to be that we'd see each other between class, a bit at lunch and in glee. But now she and Britt follow me _everywhere_. I'm suffocating."

Puck laughs loudly.

"What are you laughing?" Rachel huffs.

"I just never thought I'd hear _you_ say _that_ about _Santana_."

"Yes, well, life is strange, isn't it?"

**…**

"…and now she won't lay off this whole tattoo thing," Rachel complains. "Which I don't understand. It's not like it can be anywhere people can see it. I have to think about my future acting career. I can't have a visible, distinguishable tattoo."

Two more beers later, talkative Rachel Berry has returned.

Puck shrugs. "Maybe she wants the commitment of a tattoo."

"So what? She doesn't trust me?" Rachel asks. "You'd think letting someone fist you would ensure a higher level of trust."

Puck spits out his beer. "Jeez, Berry, warn a guy before you say shit like that."

"Noah, that's disgusting. You're lucky you didn't get any on me."

"It's your fault," Puck replies. "You can't say _that_while I'm drinking and not expect a reaction."

"What am I going to do about Santana?"

"I think you should just get the damn tattoo," Puck tells her. "Just make her get one too."

"She did say she would," Rachel muses. "But there's no way we could get one without parental consent."

"So? Your dads would probably agree."

"I don't think Santana's mom would approve."

"But if you didn't need consent, would you?"

Rachel thinks about it. "Yes, I think I would. As long as she got one as well."

"Hold that thought," Puck says, pulling out his cell.

"Noah, what are you doing?"

"Solving your problem like a good bro should," Puck replies. "Hey, Nikki, it's Puck. Yeah. Yeah. I'm good. Listen, I need a favor."

**…**

Santana's feeling pretty good. It's been a tense week. She knows it's her own doing, but she's welcoming the relaxation that two long island ice teas can bring a person.

When Coach Sylvester first suggested they have a Cheerios bonding night sans her, Santana was skeptical. Yeah, the squad has only been at 99.7% verses their usual 110% this week, but that seems to happen every year about this time. Why is this year any different?

But for whatever reason, Quinn had jumped all over the idea. And if the captain approves, there's no use in fighting it.

And since it's happening on a Friday, she can't really complain about not being with Rachel, seeing as they wouldn't be together right now, anyway. Nonetheless, she was reluctant to attend. Which is probably why as soon as possible, B handed Santana the strongest drink available and ordered her to drink. Brittany was in fact so adamant about it that Santana has to wonder if her best friend is getting annoyed with her.

She wouldn't blame her. She isn't entirely sure where this crazy possessive person came from. So once she'd consumed the first long island, she eagerly grabbed another. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

**…**

Another long island later and Santana is feeling no pain.

Therefore, it takes her a few moments to realize that she's received a text from Rachel. The message seems out of character, so Santana stares at her phone for a long moment before actually deciding to read it.

_You need to be at my house ASAP. Or else._

That's odd. And not the usual verboseness, either.

_cant smashed_Santana carefully types back.

The reply is quick. _I don't care. Figure it out._

Well, shit. That doesn't bode well.

Still, Santana knows Rachel will cut her off if she attempts to drive drunk, so she looks around for a solution. Most of the others are passed out or stumbling drunk. It's pathetic. No one can hold their liquor.

Then Santana's eyes land on their illustrious captain.

For obvious reasons, Quinn doesn't indulge anymore. Though Santana wonders who she thinks is going to get her pregnant at _this_party. But since Fabray seems to be the solution to her current predicament, Santana decides to hold back her insults.

"Having fun?" Santana asks after sauntering over to the couch where Quinn is perched.

"Oh yeah," Quinn replies. "A freaking blast."

"But you're sober, right?"

"Stop rubbing it in, Lopez."

"Good," Santana continues. "Because you're driving me and B to Berry's house, right now."

"What? No way."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not a fucking taxi!"

"Language, Q," Santana slurs mockingly. "Besides, what else are you doing?"

Quinn sighs. "Fine. But we leave _right now_and if either of you throw up in my car, I'm leaving you on some random street."

**…**

Drunk Brittany is extra touchy feely. She and Santana are in the back seat and Brittany can't keep her hands to herself. Quinn wishes Brittany would stop hugging her. It's very distracting.

"What the hell couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Quinn asks Santana. "Oh god. This isn't a booty call is it?"

"Of course not. Why would I insist on B coming with?"

"I don't know," Quinn replies. "Maybe it's a threesome. You and Berry are freaks."

"It's not a booty call," Santana says. "I don't know what it's about. Rachel just demanded I come over.

Quinn laughs. "You are so whipped, Lopez."

"Shut up."

**…**

Puck answers the door. Santana and Brittany stumble in.

"Who drove you?"

"Who do you think?" Santana asks. "Drunken mistake. Too afraid to indulge."

"She didn't come in with you?"

"Quinn likes to pretend she still hates Rachel," Brittany offers.

"She would," Puck says. "Well, it's probably better she's gone, anyhow. C'mon."

Santana and Brittany follow Puck into the living room.

"What the hell is this all about, Puckerman?"

"Hi Rachel," Brittany chirps.

"What the fuck?" Santana growls.

Rachel is laying on the couch with her shirt up and pants undone. Hovering over her is a very tall, skinny redhead.

"Guys," Puck says. "This is Nikki. Nikki this is Brittany and Santana."

"Hey." Nikki doesn't look up from her work as she continues to tattoo Rachel.

"She's getting the tattoo you've been pushing for, Lopez."

Santana blinks owlishly. "For real?"

"Totally."

"I figured we'd at least talk about what it be or whatever," Santana mumbles.

"You're getting one too," Puck continues.

"I am?"

"Yep. And don't worry," Puck says. "My bro's got it all figured out."

"So," Santana replies. "Can I see?"

"No way," Rachel says. "It's a surprise. You have to wait just like everyone else."

"Hmph. Well, can I at least know what mine is supposed to be?"

"No. Please recall my previous statement."

"Yay!" Brittany claps. "This is super exciting."

**…**

Immediately after Nikki's done with Rachel's, it's bandaged up and Rachel sits up.

"You're next," Nikki says.

"Okay," Santana replies. "I was thinking it should probably go-"

"Don't worry," Nikki interrupts. "Your girl figured it all out. Just lie down and do exactly what she did."

"I don't even get placement choice?" Santana whines.

"Don't worry, S," Brittany says. "Rachel knows what she's doing."

"I know, but that doesn't mean-"

"Santana," Rachel hisses. "Just lay down already."

Santana glares at Rachel, who just glares back. They do this for a minute or so until the sound of Brittany counting distracts them.

"Fine," Santana huffs. "But only cause the room is spinning a bit."

"Whatever makes you feel better," Puck mocks.

Nikki just chuckles and gets to work.

**…**

"Do I even want to know how you got a tattoo artist over her at midnight on a Friday?" Santana asks as the four of them are sprawled on the couch.

"Probably not," Puck replies.

"Are you ever going to tell me what the tattoos are?" Santana asks Rachel.

"Eventually."

"It'll be a fun surprise," Brittany interjects. "I think they're awesome."

"How the hell do you know what they are?" Puck asks. "Berry wouldn't tell me, either."

"She figured it out in Spanish Wednesday," Brittany replies.

"Wednesday?"

"So you were planning this all along?" Santana asks.

"Not necessarily," Rachel replies. "But figuring them out helped me make my decision."

"So now what?" Puck asks.

"Time for bed," Brittany says.

"Who's sleeping where?"

"Everyone in my bed," Rachel announces.

"Hell no!" Santana says, standing.

"There's plenty of room, Santana," Rachel replies. "And it's just sleeping."

"Fine."

The four of them trudge up the stairs. In Rachel's room, Puck grabs his usual and heads into the bathroom. Rachel finds something for Brittany to wear because while her offer to sleep naked sounds intriguing, Rachel's pretty sure it won't lead to anything she wants to deal with at the moment.

Puck wisely knocks before he reenters Rachel's room. The four of them crawl into bed: Puck, Rachel, Santana and Brittany. It's a tight fit, but it works. Santana protests Puck being next to Rachel, but both point out that this is a weekly occurrence for them.

"That's still not a comforting thought," Santana growls.

"We share a bed every week too, S," Brittany points out.

Santana groans and prepares for the onslaught of wrath from her girlfriend. There isn't any. Instead, there's just a triumphant smirk as they snuggle into bed.

There's more room once Rachel and Santana are curled together, both trying to avoid putting pressure on their new tattoos.

Puck sighs.

"What now, Puckerman?"

"This sucks," he replies. "I'm finally in bed with three hot chicks and all I'm going to do is _sleep_."

Rachel and Santana chuckle.

"There's always drunk Cheerios," Brittany says. "Maybe next weekend we can have a party."

"Yeah, maybe," Puck allows. "Still sucks though."

"Go to sleep, Noah."

**…**

Thanks to the massive alcohol consumption by all four of them, no one stirs until almost noon. Santana desperately needs to pee, but trying to get out of the cocoon of bodies proves to be more difficult than she thought.

When she returns from her extended bathroom visit, she finds that Brittany has taken her place in Rachel's arms. It's adorable, even with Puck spooning Rachel.

It's official, Rachel Berry has turned Santana Lopez into a complete fucking sap.

That thought reminds her that she has no idea what she drunkenly allowed to be tattooed on her. So Santana pulls down the waist band of the boxers she's wearing and carefully removes the gauze. It takes a moment to comprehend it because she's still half asleep and it's technically upside down. But when she does, she's definitely not pleased. She stalks over to the bed and yanks the covers off.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, wake up!"

Both Puck and Rachel sit up hastily, trying to figure out what's going on. Brittany simply yawns and stretches.

"What the hell is this?"

Rachel blinks a couple times and then her eyes follow Santana's finger as it points to the tattoo now on her right hip.

"It's a tattoo."

Puck is awake enough now to read it and bursts out laughing.

It reads, **Rachel Berry's Bitch**. The apostrophe is a gold star.

"You don't like it?" Rachel asks a little too innocently.

"_I_am nobody's bitch," Santana snarls.

"Are you sure about that Lopez?" Puck asks.

"Just relax, Santana," Rachel says, crawling out of bed. Standing, she peels off the gauze on her left hip and reveals her tattoo to Santana.

It says, **Property of Santana Lopez**.

"Hmmm."

"Feel better?" Rachel questions.

"A bit."

**…**

Because they're all awake now, Rachel decides brunch is in order. So after reattaching her bandage, she heads downstairs to see what food is around.

Puck is still chuckling about Santana's tattoo.

"I can't believe she got you to tattoo _that_on you."

"Shut up, Puckerman," Santana snaps. "I was wasted."

"But now you don't have to be jealous of all the girls around Rachel," Brittany points out. "And so we don't have to follow her around anymore."

"Yeah," Puck agrees. "You've been trailing around after Rachel like a lovesick puppy. Don't you trust her, Lopez? Cause my bro doesn't cheat."

"Yeah, well, still doesn't mean those damn Cheerios need to be all over her like that."

"They're just doing it to piss you off," Brittany says. "Well and Rachel _is_smokin' hot."

"Of course she's hot," Santana replies. "She's my girlfriend."

"Seriously," Puck says. "Did Berry put some sort of weird sex spell on you? Cause you've been acting really, I don't know, possessive and weird lately."

"Why is everyone surprised that I don't like stupid, slutty girls draping themselves all over _my_girlfriend?"

"Because you never minded when it happened to me," Puck replies.

"She sorta did," Brittany interjects. "Remember when you were dating Mercedes?"

"Yeah, I guess I forgot about that."

Santana finally notices what Puck is wearing and starts laughing. "Nice shirt, Puckerman. It's Berry-tastic."

"You're like a big grape," Brittany adds.

"Like yours is any better," Puck snaps.

Santana is wearing pink and black plaid boxers with a white tank top that has a large gold star on it.

"What about me?" Brittany asks.

Brittany is wearing an oversized t-shirt with a mad looking penguin wearing a red rubber glove on his head.

"You're adorable, B," Santana replies.

"You kinda are." Puck sounds disgusted. "God. I need to surround myself with more testosterone."

"Yeah, you definitely need more," Santana quips. "You practically have boobs."

"I wish," Puck replies. "Then at least I could've touched some last night."

"Breakfast!" Rachel calls from downstairs.

The three of them tromp down the stairs and into the kitchen to find the table filled with food. There's pancakes, toast, bacon, orange juice and coffee.

All three of them stare at the food.

"How'd you do all this so fast?" Puck asks.

"Practice."

"Not that we don't appreciate the effort, babe," Santana says. "Because we do. But I'm not so sure about all the vegan stuff."

Rachel sighs. "It's not." She holds up a plate. "This is for me. Dad and daddy aren't vegan, so we have plenty of quote unquote normal food in the house. You guys would know that if you consumed anything else in this house besides beer."

Santana and Puck look mildly guilty, but just shrug as they all sit down to eat.

**…**

Once Britt and Puck leave, Rachel makes Santana read all the tattoo information that Nikki left as well as things Rachel found in her research.

"The first few days after are crucial to promote healthy healing and longevity for your tattoo," Rachel informs Santana.

Santana just nods and reads because she doesn't want anything to go wrong. Mostly because it was painful to acquire and Santana knows if she fucks it up, Rachel will just make her go through the whole process again; which she definitely does not want to do.

They spend the rest of the day lounging in Rachel's room watching movies and fooling around.

**…**

Monday morning, Brittany and Santana walk the halls, pinkies linked, sans Rachel.

"So what'd your master want Friday night Lopez?" Quinn asks when she finds the par at their lockers.

"None of your beeswax, Quinn," Brittany says.

"You mean business?"

"Yeah."

"Whatever. So?" she asks Santana.

"Like I'd tell you," Santana replies.

"That's fine," Quinn says. "I'll just ask B."

"Yay!"

"She'll tell me," Quinn continues.

"No I won't."

"What?"

"Rachel said I can't. So I can't."

"Brittany," Quinn says. "Rachel isn't your boss. And I'm your captain."

"But Rachel's the glee club captain."

"You were a Cheerio before you joined glee," Quinn points out.

"Yeah, but Rachel's squishier than you, Quinn," Brittany replies. "She's like a walking teddy bear. You're more like a duck ice sculpture. Visually awesome, but there's no touching."

Santana tries really hard not to laugh out loud. She's only moderately successful.

Quinn glares at her. "So did you kick Puck out when you got there?" Quinn asks, changing the subject.

"Naw," Santana replies. "He was drunk off his ass. Where was he going to go?"

"So what? He spent the night? What about Britt?"

"I spent the night too," Brittany says.

"The four of you?"

"It wasn't like _that_, Fabray," Santana snaps. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I suppose not," Quinn replies. "Otherwise Puck would have been skipping through the halls this morning."

"And singing," Brittany adds. "Rachel's a bad influence."

"Well, at least we can agree on that," Quinn says.

**…**

While Kurt and Rachel have reached an understanding of sorts and might even be considered friends in some circles, he's never been more glad to see her not sitting at their usual lunch table. He's heard some sensational gossip and he wouldn't be able to discuss it with her there.

However, as he sits down to the table, Mercedes beats him to the punch.

"Oh my god, Kurt. Did you hear about Rachel and Santana and Brittany and Puck?"

"You too?' he replies.

"What?" Artie asks

"Apparently someone overheard Brittany, Santana and Quinn talking this morning and Brittany told Quinn that the four of them spent the night together."

"Was it Jacob Ben Israel?" Tina questions. "Because he isn't the most reliable source."

"Actually he is in matters that require evidence," Kurt throws out. "But no, it wasn't him."

"So the four of them…" Artie mumbles. "Jesus, why does Puck have all the luck?"

Tina smacks him on the arm.

"I'm a teenage boy," Artie counters. "I'm allowed."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to have nightmares," Kurt says.

"Me too," Mercedes adds.

"What does it matter?" Tina asks. "As long as they don't act all weird in glee, I don't see what the big deal is."

"You don't think a foursome is a big deal?" Mercedes asks, incredulous.

"I'm not saying that," Tina replies. "But it's certainly none of our business."

"You're a real kill joy, you know that?" Kurt says.

**…**

Will is a bit concerned about Rachel. He's been hearing a lot of rumors about her these past couple months and they're not exactly comforting. However, this week he's been hearing things about her, Santana, Brittany and Puck. He knows getting too involved in his students romantic entanglements is dangerous, but he worries that the other three's well documented promiscuity is having ill effects on Rachel. At least that's what the rumors imply to him.

Will knows he shouldn't put too much stock in gossip, but he has noted some definite changes in Rachel since she started dating Santana. And yes, one of those chances seems to be mellowing out somewhat, for which he is extremely grateful. And honestly, Santana has softened slightly as well; which he appreciates even more. Will gets enough daily snark from Sue.

Still, as an educator, Will feels that it's his duty to guide his students in the right direction. He feels he's doing well with Rachel in terms of her divaness, but this relationship with Santana is out of his league. He supposes he should talk to Emma about it, but it's still a somewhat delicate between them.

He briefly considers going to Sue, but dismisses it so quickly he almost gives himself mental whiplash. Mostly because he's not even sure where that idea came from. Voluntarily going to Sue for advice is like volunteering for electric shock therapy, painful, dangerous and stupid.

So Will is at a loss. He can only hope that Rachel will come to him if she's having real issues.

**…**

In glee, everyone is trying to discretely watch Rachel, Santana, Brittany and Puck to figure out if the rumors are true. None of them have acknowledged the gossip floating about. This is typical for Rachel and Brittany, but everyone's amazed that Puck isn't announcing it constantly. At least that's what they expect from him.

Finn's a little hurt. Though he's glad for the stronger relationship with Kurt, he feels he's lost his best friend to his ex. Just not in a way he expected. That being said, he never, _ever_thought he'd hear about Rachel participating in an orgy. Sure, Santana, Puck and Brittany, but not Rachel. He desperately wants to ask her if it's true, but can't seem to work up the courage. He can just imagine the look she would give him if it isn't true.

Kurt and Mercedes are huddled together comparing notes. Puck and Rachel are chatting about something, though Rachel is leaning against Santana who's whispering with Brittany. Everything seems normal. It's disappointing.

Tina can't believe how invested Kurt and Mercedes seem to be in confirming the gossip. If she cared more, she would just ask Rachel. Tina knows Rachel would tell her. Everyone agrees that Rachel is a bit of an over sharer. Which is why Tina doesn't understand Kurt and Mercedes; she supposes they just enjoy the speculation more than she does.

**…**

Rachel is fully aware of the circulating gossip. She's pretty sure Noah is as well. And it gives her warm fuzzies that he isn't bragging. He could. And they both know it. Neither Brittany or Santana would care. Well, Santana might care on Rachel's behalf, but certainly not for herself. Though Rachel isn't entirely sure why. The shit that's already been said about Rachel at McKinley is incredibly cruel and has made her immune to anything whispered in the halls.

Besides, though she'd never admit it to Santana, Rachel's finding the slight burning sensation of her new tattoo comforting. And knowing her girlfriend is experience something similar negates all the other bullshit surround her.

So Rachel is her usual self through glee, ignoring the too obvious stares and questioning looks, including the one coming from Mr. Schue. And afterward, she fist bumps Noah good bye and follows Santana and Brittany out the door. After all, Rachel does enjoy watching her girlfriend in her Cheerios skirt.


	10. Like That Movie, Open Water

**Title:** Like That Movie, _Open Water_  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, slight Rachel/Santana/Brittany, Puck, Quinn, Sue, Will, Finn, Tina, Artie, Mike, Emma, Kurt, Mercedes, Figgins, Michelle Jamieson  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel is a stud and a genius. Too bad she can't sleep.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~15,100  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> minor spoilers through 2x01  
><strong><br>**

Sunday night finds Rachel tossing and turning in bed. She's not sure why, but she feels restless and unable to fall asleep. It's been her usual Sunday, so she doesn't understand why her sleep routine seems to be disturbed. She wonders if there's a full moon.

She finally dozes off, or least she assumes she does because she's woken up by her alarm at its usual time. Rachel's not quite sure how much sleep she finally got, but knows it has to be under three hours.

Hopefully it's enough to make it through the day.

**…**

Monday morning, Rachel is at her locker getting her books, when Michelle Jamieson stops by for a chat.

A mere week ago, this would have been enough to put Rachel on edge, more so for Santana's reaction later than anything else. But apparently the permanence of ink on her skin bearing Santana's name is enough to put jealousy to rest, so Rachel just smiles in greeting when Michelle leans oh so causally against the bay of lockers.

"So I've been meaning to stop by," Michelle smirks.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I've been hearing some crazy things about you," Michelle continues. "And since I know you to be an honest sort, I'd thought I'd just ask you."

"I'm listening."

"You're going to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about?"

"Michelle, a lot of things are said about me in this school," Rachel replies. "I've learned not to assume anything."

"I suppose that makes sense. I'm talking about the foursome rumor."

"Yes, of course, that."

Michelle waits for more. There isn't any. "You have nothing else to say?"

"Don't you think if it _was_ true, that Noah would be announcing it from every rooftop in Lima?"

"Well, _I_ certainly would be," Michelle agrees. "But your girlfriend can be a bit intimidating. I wouldn't put it past Puckerman to keep his mouth shut out of fear."

"Don't let either of them hear you say that."

"I was starting to think it was true because you weren't disputing it," Michelle says.

"People say plenty of things about me," Rachel replies. "At least this one isn't completely mean spirited."

"You let people get away with too much shit," Michelle says.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But sometimes they're not even worth dealing with."

**…**

During lunch, Finn finds Tina and Artie sitting together and goes to join them.

"Can I ask you guys something?" he asks.

"Sure," Artie replies.

"How do you ask someone something without actually asking because what you're asking might make her mad?"

Tina and Artie can only stare at Finn.

"Uh guys?"

"I have no idea what you just said," Artie says.

Finn sighs. "I want to ask Rachel something, but I don't want her to get mad at me."

Tina nods. "What do you want to ask her?"

Finn seems embarrassed. He looks around guiltily before leaning in closer. "You, uh, heard that rumor last week? The one about Rachel and Santana and Brittany and Puck?"

They both nod warily.

"Well, I just-I need to know, I guess I just have to ask Rachel. But what if she gets mad at me, like _really_ mad at me?"

"She might," Tina replies. "But I don't think she will."

"Yeah, Rachel is pretty brutally honest," Artie adds.

"So I should just ask her?"

"Yeah, definitely," Tina says. "I'd make sure she's alone, though."

"Yeah, okay," Finn agrees. "Will you guys help me?"

"You want us to help you ask Rachel…that?" Artie questions. "Why?"

"I don't want to do it alone."

"I'm kind of curious myself," Tina says.

"Really?" Artie asks.

"Yeah," Tina replies. "Why not? And don't pretend you're not."

Artie shrugs. "Fine. But if she get's pissed, it's every man for himself-or herself."

**…**

There's still fifteen minutes left for lunch, so the three of them begin the search for Rachel. After five unsuccessful minutes, they spot Brittany. Asking her seems to be a good starting point.

"Hey Britt," Finn says. "Have you seen Rachel?"

"Sort of. Why?"

"I kinda want to ask her something."

"We all do," Tina adds.

"Oh. Well, she's preoccupied. Maybe you can ask me instead."

"It certainly is the path of least resistance," Artie says.

"Maybe," Finn allows. "But if it's true…I wanna hear it from Rach too."

"Hear what?" Brittany asks.

"Did you, Puck, Rachel and Santana sleep together?" Artie asks.

Brittany nods. "At Rachel's house. Her bed is big."

"What about her dads?" Tina asks.

"Workaholics," Brittany answers. "That's what Rachel told Santana."

"So now we don't have to ask Rachel," Artie says.

"_I_ still want to hear it from Rachel," Finn replies.

"So what, you just want to have a really awkward conversation with her?" Artie questions.

"I dunno. I just, I need to hear it from her," Finn says.

"I'll tell her you're looking for her if I see her," Brittany offers.

"Thanks, Brittany," Tina says.

Brittany waves at them as they walk away.

**…**

In the auditorium, Brittany skips up to the stage and flops down next to Rachel and Santana who are lounging in a pile of pillows Rachel's collected.

"Finn and Tina and Artie are looking for you, Rach," Brittany announces.

"Thanks, Britt. Did they say why?"

"They want to know if you and Santana and me and Puck slept together."

"Of course they do," Santana says. "What'd you tell them, B?"

"I told them we did."

Santana groans.

"Because we did."

Rachel chuckles. "You know that's not what they meant. Why must you be so deliberately obtuse?"

"Cause it's fun," Brittany chirps.

Santana gapes at her. "You know what that means?"

"Yeah. Rachel gave me a book."

Santana looks at her girlfriend.

"I found it at a yard sale. It's called, _The Big Book of Words for People with Really Verbose Friends_."

"And you actually read it?"

Brittany nods. "It was super helpful."

Santana shakes her head. "You two are ridiculous."

"Finn still wants to talk to you," Brittany continues.

"Why?" Rachel asks. "Technically he already has his answer."

"He wants to hear it from you," Brittany answers. "Maybe try to understand you. I think he gets the old Rachel Berry better."

"You mean the one that constantly put up with all his bullshit and let him walk all over her?" Santana asks.

"Yep."

Santana growls.

"Don't worry, S," Brittany says. "Even if Finn tries to win Rachel back, Puck wouldn't let him."

"Nor do I want to reattempt our romantic courtship," Rachel adds.

"Yeah. That too."

"I still don't like the idea of Hudson trying to worm his way back in."

"Maybe he's just concerned as a friend," Rachel tries.

"Just show him your tattoo, Rachel," Brittany says. "Then there won't be any confusion."

"Perhaps. But then he'll want to discuss _that_. And I'd rather not," Rachel tells her. "He wouldn't believe for one minute that it was my idea."

"I don't know why you want to talk to him either way," Santana says.

"Santana, be nice," Rachel says. "Finn tries. He just needs to do some growing up."

**…**

The final bell has rung for the day and Rachel is making her way to her locker, when she's grabbed and dragged into an empty classroom.

"I have pepper spray and I know how to use it," Rachel tells her captors. Looking around, she sees only friendly faces and relaxes. "I apologize. But your methods of attracting my attention are a bit jarring."

"Sorry," Finn says, looking sheepish. "It's just that we've been looking for you all day. I was starting to think you were avoiding us."

"How could I when I didn't know?"

"Brittany didn't tell you?" Artie asks.

"She did," Rachel says. "But then she also said she answered the question. So naturally, I presumed the matter was settled. Is it not?"

"Rachel," Tina says. "Finn wants to ask you something, but he's worried you'll be mad."

"Why would I get angry? Is it offensive?"

"Did you really have a foursome?" Finn blurts out.

"Ah, that old chestnut." Rachel shakes her head. "My first response is, how is that any of your business? As we are no longer romantically involved, it really isn't your concern."

"I'm asking as a friend, Rach, I swear."

"You might believe that," Rachel replies. "But as someone who knows you, I'm going to have to disagree. While, yes, you do have some friendly concerns, more than anything you're feeling jealous. Partly of Noah for obvious reason, though you have had sex with both myself and Santana, so I'm not sure why. Partly of me because you miss your best friend and you resent the fact that I have filled those shoes in his life. Maybe even Santana a little in regards to her and my relationship, though you're not exactly sure why because you're positive that you make a much better boyfriend than Santana does a girlfriend."

"Damnit, Rachel," Finn says. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"Am I wrong?"

Finn sighs. "No. You're not wrong."

"Well, then, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home since school is over for the day."

Rachel exits the empty classroom leaving Finn looking disheartened while Tina and Artie just look astonished.

**…**

That night Rachel can't fall asleep again. After about an hour of tossing and turning, she gives up this time and pulls out her school work. She's currently only two weeks ahead of her classes, so this is the perfect time to remedy the situation.

She finally dozes off in the middle of European History, sometimes after four. She knows this because when she starts the subject it's 3:49 a.m. and she feels confident that she was reading for at least fifteen minutes beforehand.

She doesn't wake up feeling her normal refreshed self, but nonetheless begins her usual morning routine. She managed to get through Monday on very little sleep and it seems that is how Tuesday is going to be as well.

**…**

Tuesday morning, Kurt is cornered by Finn, Tina and Artie.

"It's not true," Finn tells Kurt.

"You're sure?"

"We are," Tina says.

"She said so?" Kurt asks.

"Well, technically no," Finn says. "She just told us that it isn't any of our business."

"Yeah," Artie says. "And then she lectured Finn before stalking off."

"So what makes you say it isn't true?" Kurt presses.

"I don't think she'd be so defensive if it was true," Tina replies.

"Really?"

"Really."

Kurt sighs. "Yeah. Fine then."

"What's the big deal?" Finn asks.

"I just want another interesting scandal," Kurt explains. "Babygate really gave me an appetite for it."

"Something good will come up," Tina says. "It always does."

"Maybe I should watch more reality TV," Kurt mutters.

**…**

"…it's just that I'm concerned," Will tells Emma over lunch. "And I know I shouldn't put such stock in rumors, but I can't help but worry."

"No, I've heard them as well," Emma says.

"And it's not good. Right?"

"Well, certainly the tone of the gossip has changed drastically this year," Emma agrees.

"I'm not sure what to think anymore," Will laments.

"I'm disappointed in you William," Sue says sitting across from them. "I really expected more open mindedness from the organizer of such a rag tag group of misfits. Apparently I misjudged you."

"And why is that, Sue?"

"The amount of bullcrap that floats through these halls is obscene. I'm surprised that you pay attention to any of it."

"It's hard to ignore things when they're said constantly," Will argues.

"Still, I'd think you of all people would have a little faith in Streisand."

"Rachel's done plenty to be concerned about."

"You're no saint, William," Sue reminds him. "Some of the dancing alone is outlawed in five states. And I'm pretty sure a white man like you rapping in Detroit would be shot."

"Sue," Emma says. "Will is just concerned that Rachel's heading in a bad direction."

"Why? Because she's finally hanging out with winners? Instead of that band of muppets you call a glee club? Perhaps his concern stems more from Liza pulling away from his misguided tutelage. Does it hurt you to know another one of your sheep is leaving the flock?"

"I would hardly call what's happening with Rachel leaving the flock," Will replies.

"Of course not," Sue says. "Those blinders you're wearing are quite large. But as much as I'd like to stay and tell you how wrong you are William, Isis, I have things I'd rather be doing."

**…**

Rachel is literally dragged into Sue's office by two freshmen Cheerios. She's pushed into a chair and left alone with Coach Sylvester.

"You wanted to see me, Coach?" Rachel asks, fighting a smirk.

Sue nods. "I did, Berry. As I'm sure you're aware as the coach of a nationally ranked cheerleading squad, I am an exceptional leader. Unfortunately, the same can _not_ be said about your squiggly haired one. And because of that, I feel that I should take you under my wing and acclimate you with what it's like to be a winner in every aspect of your life; specifically your educational side. You've taken an important first step by surrounding yourself with winners. The next step is acknowledging what I Sue Sylvester can do for you."

"Uh, Coach, no offense meant," Rachel says. "But you sound a bit like a recruitment brochure for a cult."

"I suppose you could look at it that way," Sue replies. "The Cult of Sue Sylvester. I like the sound of that. See, I knew you were worth the time. Lopez made an excellent choice. It's nice to see that as an almost four year member of the Cult of Sue that Lopez has grown."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate knowing that," Rachel says. "But I'll admit I'm a bit bewildered by what you hope to accomplish in this meeting."

"You see that's another thing I like about you, Berry," Sue says. "Straight forward."

"Thank you."

"I simply wanted to let you know that I'm in your corner," Sue continues. "Unlike other less illustrious faculty in this swamp of failure, I don't see all these changes in you as a bad thing. I believe you should embrace it."

"Thank you, Coach," Rachel replies. "However, I believe I already am."

"I know. I just wanted it reiterate it in case you're faced with some strong arguments otherwise. Not that I think you'll buckle, but more as a friendly warning to the newest pledge of the Cult of Sue."

"Yes, well, thank you, again," Rachel says. "Not to be rude, but is that all? It's just I'm missing Trigonometry and-"

"Yes, of course," Sue replies. "That is all. Feel free to stop by anytime. _Now_ there's a 25% that I won't set the hose on you."

Rachel just gives a half smile as she stands and heads back to class.

**…**

When Will arrives at glee that afternoon, he tries to be extra observant. He hates that he'd even think it, but he has considered that Sue might be right. Though he'd never say it out loud.

But he also finds relaxed Rachel disconcerting. She's still just as bossy and intense, but she doesn't pull it out all the time, every day. There are still epic disagreements between Rachel and Mercedes as well as Rachel and Kurt, but now they don't happen at the drop of a hat.

However, he notices today that the room is strangely divided and oddly quiet. Santana is practically in Brittany's lap who is playing with Quinn's hair. While Puck and Rachel, sitting next to them, have their heads bent together, whispering. The rest of the kids are on the opposite side of the room in a huddle, whispering and pointing. Will wonders if he missed something or if this is left over from last week's drama.

He also wonders if he should be so invested in the drama of teenagers.

Everything goes normally until near the end.

While dancing, Finn bumps into Kurt who falls against Puck.

"Watch it, dude," Puck mumbles, pushing him back slightly.

"It wasn't my fault," Kurt replies.

"Well, maybe if you'd stop staring and pay attention to your own shit, you wouldn't have run into Hudson."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," Puck sneers.

"Guys, this isn't helpful," Will interjects. "Let's just try again."

"Actually, Mr. Schue," Rachel interrupts. "I think it'd be better if we just quit for the day."

Everyone just stares at her.

"I just don't think we're going to make any more progress today," Rachel continues, seemingly oblivious. "And so we should stop now before the machismo gets out of hand."

"Um, all right," Will agrees. "How about everyone else? Should we stop for the day?"

His answer is for everyone to begin scrambling for their things.

"Okay, then, guys," Will says over the shuffle. "See you guys tomorrow."

He watches them trickle out. He watches Quinn walk out with Brittany following, while dragging Santana with her. For some reason Puck is giving Rachel a piggy back ride and they trail out after the Cheerios. He notices Kurt and Mercedes hanging back, heads bent together, whispering. They're the last ones to leave the room.

Will gathers his own things and turns off the light as he leaves. Tomorrow, he decides, he'll talk to Rachel. If he can just touch base with her, it will most likely set his mind at ease.

**…**

Rachel lets out a frustrated scream into her pillow. She can't fall asleep. _Again_. She's beginning to become concerned. It doesn't bode well in her mind that she's unable to sleep for a third night. Now she finds herself becoming slightly paranoid. Is there something wrong with her? Because insomnia is not something future stars get. Also, she needs her beauty sleep.

She's also beginning to feel the effects of her sleep deprivation. She's thankful that she's been able to doze for a few hours, but a full eight hours is what she needs to truly function.

She's really not in the mood for homework and she did make excellent progress the night before, so she decides to read instead. She looks over the small stack of books next to her bed. She discards both_Jude the Obscure_ and _The Heart is a Lonely Hunter_ because they're just too depressing at the moment. She also passes _Don Quixote_ and _The House of the Spirits_ for being too epic. She finally settles on _The Nice and the Good_. She cracks the spine and begins reading.

_A head of department, working quietly in his room in Whitehall on a summer afternoon…_

**…**

The next morning, Rachel stops by Mr. Schuester's office. She wants to discuss the possibility of doing a mash up of Broadway tunes; she already has some ideas.

"Oh, Rachel, good," Will says when she knocks on his door. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Excellent, Mr. Schue," Rachel replies. "Because I have some ideas I'd like to run by you for glee.

"And you can, I promise," he tells her. "But if you could sit and we could talk first for a moment."

Hesitantly, Rachel sits. It seems Coach Sylvester is more prophetic than Rachel realized.

"It's been a while since we've really chatted," Will begins.

"No offense, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "But we've never really _chatted_ before."

"Right, well then this is a perfect time to start. Don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Rachel cautiously agrees. "It depends on what you'd like to discuss, though."

"Nothing in particular. I just want to make sure you're doing fine. It's been a crazy year so far, don't you think?"

"I suppose so."

"And I want you to know," Will continues. "That my door is always open. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always willing to listen."

"Thank you, Mr. Schuester," Rachel replies. "But I feel that I have an adequate number of confidants."

"Good. Well, good then. Because I had some concerns."

"Such as?"

"While I'm pleased that you've seemed to have forged real friendships, I wonder if perhaps they're dragging you in the wrong direction."

"What direction is that?" Rachel questions.

Will chuckles nervously. "Away from the Rachel Berry we all know and love."

"Well considering how _loved_ that Rachel Berry was, perhaps it's not such a bad thing."

"Rachel just because things didn't exactly go your way last year, doesn't mean you should abandon yourself."

"I'm not," Rachel insists. "I'm just allowing myself to grow in another direction. Also, Mr. Schuester, I would think of all the people in this place, you'd be glad of my metamorphosis. It certainly makes your life easier."

"Rachel, that's not fair."

"No need to get defensive," Rachel says. "I'm just stating the obvious."

"I just don't appreciate the implications you're making, Rachel."

Rachel sighs. "Mr. Schuester, no offense was intended. And may I remind you, that you're the one that began this conversation. If you didn't want to confront such issues, then maybe you shouldn't have brought it up."

"Rachel, I'm still your teacher," Will says.

"I agree," Rachel replies. "However, please enlighten me about what I just said that was untrue."

"_Okay_," Will says. "I'm going to interpret this as you telling me you'd rather not talk at the moment."

"That is an excellent deduction," Rachel agrees. "Is it all right if I head to class?"

"Yes, of course. I'll see you in Spanish."

"See you later, Mr. Scue."

**…**

At the end of the day, Rachel is gathering her homework when the same two freshmen Cheerios that dragged her to Coach Sylvester's office approach her.

"Hi Rachel," the blonde one giggles as the red head joins in.

"Hello."

Rachel continues what she was doing as they just stand there, whispering and giggling. Once Rachel's done, she closes her locker.

"Well, I have to be going."

"We just wanted to let you know that we think you're super hot."

"Thank you."

"And if you ever want to, _you know_, we'd totally be up for it."

Rachel blinks once. "Both of you?"

They nod enthusiastically.

Rachel fights the urge to pinch herself because she feels like she's fallen into one of Noah's pornos. She tries to peripherally look around for a camera.

"You are aware that I have a fairly possessive girlfriend, aren't you?"

They nod again. "But if she's there too, then it should be okay. Right?" The red head replies.

Rachel has definitely fallen into one of Noah's fantasies.

"I'll keep you in mind," is all she says.

"It's just," the blonde says. "We know you're up for it. I mean, I know we're just freshmen, not juniors like Puck or Brittany, but as Cheerios, we _are_ very bendy."

Rachel groans because she's only human and she's _fully_ aware of how flexible Cheerios can be. The image that comes to her is ridiculously hot and probably fairly accurate.

"Yes, well, thanks. But I need to be going."

"Bye Rachel," both girls sing song.

**…**

That night Rachel stares at her ceiling in a resigned funk; no sleep again tonight. What can she do tonight instead?

She pulls out a pink and white polka dotted notebook. She has two in her night stand; a pink glittery one that's her diary and the other that is her sketchbook of sorts. It's how she figures out the pranks she's going to pull. It's filling faster than her diary as of late. She has so many ideas. She wishes Figgins hadn't threatened Noah, then she could do something whenever she had an idea, instead of waiting for the perfect opportunity. It makes her want to take away some of his power.

Which gives her the perfect idea.

She spends the rest of the night planning. She doesn't get any sleep. Nevertheless, she's feeling energetic in the morning because of it.

**…**

"I think we should have sex," Brittany tells Santana as they primp at their lockers Thursday morning.

"Uh, Britt, we don't do that anymore, remember?"

"Not just us, but Rachel too," Brittany smiles.

"Oh. I'm still not sure that she'd go for it," Santana says, cautiously.

"Yeah, she would," Brittany assures her. "She likes me. And I'm hot. And she has a thing for Cheerios. She told me. It's how come you guys do it so much at school. She thinks you're smokin' hot in your uniform."

"Well that's because I'm smokin' hot, period."

"And it'd be fun," Brittany adds.

"You're serious?"

Brittany nods so enthusiastically that Santana is afraid she's going to hurt herself.

"I'll mention it to her."

Brittany hugs Santana. "It's okay if _you_ don't want to, S. I know you don't like to share."

"You're different, B," Santana replies. "You know that."

"I know."

**…**

"You wanted to see me, Ms. Pillsbury?" Rachel asks as she sticks her head in Emma's office.

"I do," Emma says. "Please have a seat."

Rachel does and waits.

"I'm sorry to take you away from lunch," Emma says. "But I assumed you'd rather not skip class."

"Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury. You are correct."

"I just wanted…to check in with you. See how you're doing."

"I'm fine," Rachel assures her.

"Because I've…heard some things and-"

"You wanted to stop my complete and utter corruption before it's too late."

"I wouldn't put it quite that way," Emma says. "But yes."

"Well let me assure you," Rachel replies. "I'm fine. I'm not spiraling downward or being tainted. I'm simply evolving as one is supposed to during their tenure in high school."

"Yes, I agree with the sentiment. But the direction you appear to be heading is doesn't seem the best."

"Because I'm no longer the school's chum bucket? _I_ certainly prefer it that way," Rachel says.

"As you should," Emma replies.

"I just don't understand why everyone is up in arms over a few rumors. They're _rumors_. More horrible things have been said about me. If sounding a little adventurous in bed earns me a little respect, then so be it. I'm not going to apologize for wanting to not be bullied. And I'm _definitely_ not going to apologize for enjoying sex."

"Of course, Rachel. I just-"

"Except now I _still_ have people bothering me. I don't need any other faculty members pulling me aside."

"Who else has-"

"So I don't mean to be rude, Ms. Pillsbury, but may I go to lunch now?"

"Yes. Of course. If you're sure you're doing fine," Emma says.

"I am."

Emma watches Rachel stand and stalk out looking perturbed. She mentally chastises herself. She didn't really think the meeting was necessary, but Will had repeatedly requested it after his hadn't gone so well the day before. Emma decides to try and stay out of Rachel's life unless she sees _real_ evidence of a downward spiral. Because being reprimanded by Rachel Berry isn't an experience Emma wants to have ever again.

**…**

Puck is having lunch with Finn, Santana, Brittany and Quinn when he receives a text from Rachel.

_I'm beginning to think we should all just have sex because I'm sick of being confronted because of a stupid rumor. Being constantly bothered makes me want to simply do it so I can derive some pleasure from this whole ridiculous thing. Tell Santana I'll see her later. I'm far too agitated at the moment._

Putting his phone away, Puck laughs. "Hey Lopez. Your girl says we should have sex."

"Shut up Puckerman. She did not."

"Yeah," Puck replies. "She did. She's sick of people bugging her about it."

Finn keeps his eyes on his sandwich.

"It'd be good for my rep to bag Santana Lopez's gf," Puck continues. "And I've already banged everyone at this table."

"Really?" Quinn asks. "_Every_one?"

"Yeah."

"So I wasn't the one to pop Finnocence's cherry?" Santana asks.

"What?" Finn gasps.

"Except Hudson, bitch," Puck growls.

"You did say _every_one," Quinn points out.

"You know what I meant."

"I don't see what they big deal is," Brittany says.

"Yeah," Santana adds. "It's not like we think Finnocence would be pitching in the scenario."

"What?" Finn asks.

"That's true," Quinn agrees.

"I hate you guys," Finn mutters.

**…**

Rachel eats her lunch on the stage of the auditorium. She sits on the edge of the stage and lets her legs swing occasionally as she chews.

She's not sure why this whole thing is bothering her so much; perhaps because of the lack of sleep. Certainly she's used to people talking about her and saying much more horrendous things. Perhaps it's the confrontations. She wonders why people are so concerned about her _now_ verses before when she was being taunted and bullied. And more specifically, why is she so bothered by it?

It feels like resentment. Where were these concerns when she really needed them? She knows Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury mean well, but it's almost too much too late. At least Coach Sylvester seems to be in her corner. Rachel never thought it would happen, but it seems that the Cheerio coach supports her. And not _just_ because of who she associates with. That she finds both comforting and frightening.

**…**

For the first time in a long time, Rachel wants to skip glee. She knows that doing so won't lessen the worries everyone has about her. However, part of her doesn't care. If she was a different sort of person, her girlfriend for example, she'd just tell them all to fuck off. Instead, she plans on going home and maybe trying to get some sleep. She feels desperate for it.

She texts Santana to let her know, gathers her things and quietly leaves, desperately hoping she doesn't run into anyone.

Luckily this time, she makes a clean getaway.

**…**

Santana and Brittany arrive a bit early to glee. Santana's hoping to catch a moment with Rachel. She'd been hoping to see her at lunch and had been mildly annoyed when Puck informed her that Rachel wanted to eat by herself.

She's disappointed to find they're the first to arrive. They pick a spot in the back and sit. Brittany is texting, so Santana just closes her eyes and pretends she's somewhere else when her phone beeps.

_I'm not feeling so well, so I'm going to skip glee. Stop by later and say hello if you'd like._

Santana sighs. Without Rachel, glee is pointless to her. Looking around, she sees only Mike and Finn. Finn's at the drums and Mike is dancing to some beat Finn is pounding out. She grabs Brittany, who is still texting, and walks out.

It isn't until they're sitting in Santana's car and heading towards Rachel's that Brittany asks, "What about glee?"

"We're skipping it."

"Oh. Kay." And then Brittany returns to her texting.

**…**

Santana unlocks the Berry front door and Brittany follows her in. They drop their things by the door and tromp up the stairs to Rachel's room. There they find a very frustrated Rachel Berry, though neither is sure why.

Brittany bounces over to the bed. "Hi Rachel."

"Hello, Britt," Rachel replies. "Is glee over already?"

"We're skipping."

Rachel turns to Santana. "Santana," she admonishes. "Being short three members will greatly affect today's practice."

"Depends on which three members," Santana replies. "Even if it's just you, practice is already affected."

"Santana missed you," Brittany adds.

"Ah, I missed you too," Rachel says, patting the bed as Santana flops down next to her.

Brittany flops down on the other side of Rachel.

"What are you doing anyway?" Santana asks. She doesn't see any homework out or a book open and the TV is off.

"Oh. I was trying to sleep," Rachel replies. "I haven't been able to get my usual eight hours a night this week."

"Really? Why didn't you say anything?" Santana asks. "Because I definitely wouldn't have guessed that from your behavior this week."

"It's nobody's business," Rachel replies. "And I didn't want you to worry."

"Or I could have come over and helped out," Santana says.

"While I admit sleeping with you is a thousand times better than sleeping alone," Rachel says. "I'm not sure it would have helped."

"She means sex, silly," Brittany says. "Which we can try now."

"I think I missed something," Rachel says.

"You and me and Santana should have sex," Brittany tells her. "It'll be fun. And then maybe after you'll be able to sleep."

Rachel tries to catch Santana's eye to gauge her opinion of the suggestion, but her girlfriend currently has her head buried against Rachel's shoulder.

"Uh…"

"You both want to," Brittany continues. "I know you do. But you'll never say it cause you don't want to hurt each other's feelings. So it's up to me."

Rachel has a feeling Brittany's correct. She seems to have this uncanny understanding of the relationship. And she's Santana's best friend, so she _would_ probably know. Moreover, the blonde is right, Rachel does want to. Ever since Puck, Santana and Brittany spent the night in her bed. She certainly can't deny that she finds the idea of Santana and Brittany hot. Realizing the exact nature of their relationship the year before, is what enabled Rachel to deduce that she's not entirely straight.

"Okay."

Santana's head shoots up. "What?"

"Okay. Let's do it."

"Yay!" Brittany says, clapping. She jumps off the bed and locks Rachel's bedroom door even though it's highly unlikely that either of Rachel's dads will be home any time soon. Brittany then begins getting undressed.

"Whoa, hold it there, Britt," Rachel says, sitting up. "Let me."

Santana watches as Rachel climbs off the bed and grabs Brittany. She sits her on the bed and kisses her. With Britt sitting, Rachel now has a slight height advantage. Santana crawls over and sits behind Brittany. Grabbing Rachel's ass, she pulls her girlfriend closer until the three of them are flush together.

As Santana begins pulling off what of Rachel's clothes she can reach, Rachel pulls off Brittany's Cheerio top so forcefully, Santana thinks she might rip it. Brittany's bra quickly follows and Rachel has engulfed a nipple in her mouth.

Brittany groans. "See, I told you, S. It's the uniform."

Rachel switches to the other breast. "More stripping. Less talking."

**…**

Rachel did doze off a bit afterwards, but since the sex lasted longer than the nap, she's not sure how helpful it really was. Unfortunately, it seems to have helped enough to stop her from sleeping now. She internally shrugs because she'd assumed this would happen anyway. She's given herself an hour to fall asleep to no avail and so Rachel decides to follow through on her plans.

Getting dressed, she pulls on black jeans, a black hooded sweatshirt and her converse sneakers. She grabs the plans she drew up the night before and heads downstairs. In the garage, she finds the necessary tools and throws them into a duffel that her dads keep in the hall closet. Luckily, it's black as well.

She's thankful that she has her own car, even if she rarely uses it. It's not her fault that all the people in her life would rather drive. She drives to school as quickly and as safely as she can.

She parks her car in the darkest part of the parking lot. She knows it's dangerous out here at night, alone, but she has mace and she knows self defense. However, she figures the faster everything is done, the faster she can get back to the safety of her house.

She makes quick work of the lock and sneaks inside. Once inside, she pulls off the backpack and digs out her plans. First things first, she puts on a headlight. This frees up her hands. She's made a list of steps and so she starts with number one. Thankfully, her extensive planning skills mean all she has to do is follow everything she wrote down and she'll be done in no time. She gets to work.

Part Two

Friday morning she's in the kitchen having breakfast when Brittany and Santana walk in. Santana goes straight for some coffee while Brittany bounces in and envelops Rachel in a bear hug.

"Did you get any sleep, babe?" Santana asks as she sits. She places a mug of coffee in front of Brittany, who accepts it with a smile.

"A little."

"But not enough?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"Do we need to have more sex?" Brittany asks. "Cause I thought we did pretty good yesterday."

"I appreciate the offer, Britt," Rachel replies. "But I'm not sure that's the solution."

"Santana says sex is always the answer."

"I'm sure she does," Rachel says with a smile. "Can we just play it by ear?"

"Okay."

"Not that I'm complaining," Rachel continues. "But why are you here?"

"Thought you might like a ride to school," Santana tells her. "I was hoping you'd slept more." She pulls Rachel onto her lap. "Maybe you should see a doctor, babe. I heard if you go too long without sleep, you go psycho. And since you're already halfway there _with_ sleep…"

"Ha ha," Rachel says. "You seem to like crazy."

"It has definite benefits for me," Santana mutters as she lets her fingers trace the edge of Rachel's skirt.

Rachel smacks her hand away. "We're going to school. It's almost the weekend and we can spend all day Saturday in bed if you want."

"I'm holding you to that," Santana says. "It's been way too long."

"So yesterday was just an elaborate dream I had?" Rachel asks.

"I meant, since we've spent all day in bed," Santana replies. "Trust me. I'm _never_ forgetting yesterday. My favorite activity with my two favorite girls? It's like Christmas and my birthday combined."

"Glad to hear it." Rachel stands. "We better go or we'll be late."

After putting their dishes in the sink, Rachel follows the two Cheerios out of the house, locking it behind her.

"So what do you do when you can't sleep?" Brittany asks.

"There are plenty of things to do when one has the right motivation."

**…**

When they arrive at school, they notice that the parking lot is full; not just of cars, but of people as well.

"What the hell?" Santana growls. "Why are these morons just standing there?"

They manage to find a spot unoccupied by a car or people and quickly get out. Santana looks around for some information and her eyes land on Kurt. She stalks over with Brittany and Rachel trailing after.

"Hummel," she says when she arrives at his side. "What the hell is going on?"

"I'm not quite sure," Kurt replies. "Something's up. No one's allowed in the building. But of course they won't tell us why."

"Do you think the prankster struck again?"

"It's possible," Kurt replies. "But what could have been done that they don't even want us to _see_? Nothing that's been done before has been offensive in any way. It's a mystery."

"Did you try asking Mr. Schue?" Rachel asks. "He might let something slip."

"Or Coach Sylvester," Brittany adds.

Everyone, including Mercedes and Quinn who are on the other side of Kurt, look at Brittany in amazement.

"No way," Kurt says.

"I bed she does," Brittany insists.

"I'll take that bet," Mercedes says. "Five dollars say she doesn't."

"You're on," Brittany replies.

"Five on Brittany," Santana says.

"I'm with Mercedes," Kurt says.

"Of course you are," Santana snarks.

"Yes, and siding with Brittany is different, how?"

"Quinn?" Brittany asks.

"Sorry, B," Quinn replies. "But I agree with Mercedes. Coach won't tell us."

"That's fine, Quinn. Rachel?"

"Sorry, guys, but I'm with them," Rachel says, gesturing to Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn.

Santana shrugs. "It's your five dollars."

"So who's going to ask her?" Mercedes questions.

"We will." Brittany grabs Rachel and drags her away in search of Coach Sylvester.

"Really?" Kurt asks.

Santana shrugs again. She can admit to herself that she's lost a lot of faith in Brittany's plan, even though she knows she shouldn't. They return to straining to see something as they wait.

**…**

"You really think we're the best two representatives for this?" Rachel asks as she trails after Brittany.

"No. But I do think _you're_ the perfect one to ask."

"What? Absolutely not."

"Trust me, Rach," Brittany says. "I know these things."

Brittany spots Coach Sylvester near the other faculty, but not close enough to actually engage in any sort of conversation. She pushes Rachel towards her.

Sue notices Rachel's less than graceful approach. "Berry. Not the most coordinated entrance I've ever seen."

"Yes, well, sometimes there are obstacles," Rachel says, glancing back at a smiling Brittany.

"And why are you bothering me today?"

"I was just curious about what is going on."

"As if you don't know," Sue replies. "You may have been dragged over here against your will, but let's not pretend that you don't know exactly what's causing the dilemma. "

"Coach, I-"

"No. I don't want to hear it," Sue interrupts. "I assume no responsibility whatsoever. Therefore, I will simply say that as you're most likely aware, every single entrance into the building is locked. Locked in such a way that no one can get in. Figgins is in the process of attempting anyway. He has yet to decide what to do with you lot of miscreants. My vote is to send you home citing a gas leak."

"If Figgins is smart, he'll agree with you," Rachel replies.

Sue eyes Rachel for a moment. "You're not trying to suck up, are you Barbra?"

"Of course not," Rachel says. "I'm simply agreeing with you. Thank you for the information, Coach."

"Yeah. Yeah. Now scram before someone decides I can tolerate you."

Rachel skips over to Brittany, feeling giddy despite losing five dollars.

"So?"

Rachel just nods and heads back towards the others.

**…**

"What could possibly be taking so long?" Quinn asks.

"Maybe you should have gone with," Santana smirks.

"Would you two relax?" Kurt says. "I see them."

Neither girl says anything, but when they stop in front of them, Rachel hands Brittany five dollars. Everyone, but Santana groans and hands over the money.

"So?"

"For some reason, no one can get into the school. They're working on it," Rachel says.

"What does that mean?" Mercedes asks. "No one can get in?"

"The doors aren't just locked or if they are, no one has a key."

"Hey guys," Finn says walking up with Puck behind him. "We're thinking of splitting."

"Yeah, this is bullshit," Puck agrees. "I actually bother to show up and we're not allowed in?"

"We should wait until we receive permission," Rachel says.

"Oh please, babe," Santana replies. "We all know they're not going to. If the prankster has struck again, he's done an excellent job of keeping us out. They'll be lucky if they can get in before Monday."

Everyone murmurs agreements while Rachel fights to keep a smirk from forming.

"I don't care," Rachel says. "I'm waiting."

"I hate to say it," Quinn says. "But she's probably right. What if they just forced us to go somewhere else?"

"Who care?" Puck says. "What are they going to do with us? They're probably way too focused on getting in."

"ALL RIGHT, LISTEN UP YOU SOON TO BE COLLEGE REJECTS!"

Everyone turns at the sound of Coach Sylvester and her bullhorn.

"WE HAVE A POTENTIAL GAS LEAK, SO YOU'RE ALL TO GO HOME. BUT SCHOOL WILL RESUME ON MONDAY, SO YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A STUDENT BODY BETTER BE HERE ON TIME."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Rachel asks.

"So now what?" Finn asks.

"We get the hell out of here, dude," Puck replies.

"We should go have sex," Brittany whispers loudly to Santana.

Everyone's eyes whip around to the pair, except for Rachel who is digging in her bag.

"We'll talk about it later, Britt."

"Hot," Puck mutters.

"We're out of here," Mercedes says, dragging Kurt with her.

"Wanna do something?" Puck asks Rachel.

"I was thinking of spending the time with my girlfriend," Rachel replies.

"Why can't you do both?"

"B wants to go have an adventure," Santana says as she walks up to the pair.

"See, perfect," Puck says.

"What exactly do you mean by an adventure?" Rachel asks.

Santana grabs both Puck and Rachel and drags them away from everyone else. "She says there's something she has to do and that she needs the three of us. So we're going."

"Wait," Puck says. "Where does the adventure part come in?"

"Just meet us at Rachel's," Santana replies.

Puck eyes her for a moment. "Fine. But if it sucks, you totally owe me, Lopez."

"I owe you nothing, Puckernone."

"Why do I feel like you're not telling us everything?" Rachel asks as Puck walks off.

"I'll let B explain," Santana replies, dragging Rachel towards her car.

Brittany's already there and all three climb inside.

The drive to the Berry house is quiet with only the radio on softly as noise.

Inside they head into the kitchen where Santana gets herself another cup of coffee.

"I don't see why we even bothered going today," Santana says. "You could have just mentioned that school would be cancelled."

"Why would I do that?" Rachel questions. "After all, I have to sustain the illusion, don't I?"

"Rachel's very thorough," Brittany says.

"A little too much if you ask me."

A moment later Puck enters the kitchen. "So what's the plan ladies?"

"What took so long?" Santana asks.

"I had to ditch Finn."

"Noah, that's not nice."

"Did _you_ want him with?" Puck asks.

"Well, no, but ditch sounds so harsh."

"He deserves worse," Santana mutters.

"It's a matter of opinion," Puck says. "So I repeat, what's the plan?"

"I need your guys help," Brittany says. "I lost something over the summer. But I don't quite remember where and so I need to back track my steps. Except I didn't want to do it alone because last time I got way lost."

"Britt," Rachel says. "Are you saying you want us to go trouping through the sewers?"

"Exactly."

Santana sighs. "Fine."

"What?" Puck exclaims. "No way. The Puckasauras does not go splashing through sewer water."

"We're going, Noah," Rachel tells him. "You can come if you like."

"I'm sure Rach has some boots you can borrow," Santana adds.

"Yeah, Rachel is always prepared," Brittany says.

They all look towards Rachel, but she's already disappeared upstairs gathering supplies.

She reappears a mere five minutes later with a full back pack and a collection of rubber. She's also changed clothes. She's wearing a pair of waders over a sweatshirt.

Rachel hands each of them their own pair. Puck fights the urge to ask why the Berrys have so many because he's pretty sure no one in this family fishes.

"These should keep up relatively dry," Rachel says. "I also have flashlights for us." She goes to the fridge and pulls out bottles of water. She goes to the cupboard next and pulls out some small boxes. "Anything else we might need?"

Brittany looks excited, Santana looks amused and Puck look wary.

"How long is this going to take?" Puck asks. "Because you're packed for an expedition."

"I like to be prepared, Noah," Rachel replies. "You know that."

"Whatever. But I'm not wearing these," he says holding up the rubber pants.

"Then I hope you like wet feet," Rachel tells him.

"Can we go now?" Brittany asks.

**…**

Rachel drives. She waves off Brittany's directions. All too soon, they're pulling up to a massive drain pipe and climbing out.

Puck examines it. It's a huge pipe with a diameter of at least ten feet with water trickling out. The inside looks dark and daunting.

As they stand in front of the entrance, Rachel hands each of them a flash light. She then pulls out her headlight and puts it on. She then pulls out a can of spray paint.

"What's that for?" Puck asks.

"So we can find our way back out. It's the equivalent to leaving breadcrumbs behind us."

"I call dibs on Gretel," Brittany says.

"We don't really need code names, B," Santana tells her.

"But they're fun."

"How about we just call _you_ Gretel?" Rachel suggests.

"Okay."

They head inside. Because Rachel has the headlight, she goes first. When they hit their first intersection, which just happens to be a T, Rachel spray paints an arrow pointing the way they came.

"We should be able to see that, don't you think?" Rachel says of the orange neon paint.

"Definitely, babe."

"Which way, Gretel?"

"Ah, that way, I think."

They go left, but stop when Rachel makes another arrow.

Though Puck would never admit it, he's glad Rachel made him put on the waders. He'd be soaked and miserable by now otherwise.

They continue on this way for a while. Every time they change course or take a turn, Rachel sprays another arrow. When Puck hears the tell tale signs of an empty can, he panics a little.

"Relax, Noah," Rachel says. She pulls another can out of her bag.

After a while it seems like they've been down there forever. Puck almost wishes he wore a watch.

"How long have we been down here?" he asks finally.

"About an hour," Rachel replies.

"That's it?"

"We're making excellent progress."

"What exactly are we looking for again?"

"Quackers," Brittany says.

"Crackers?"

"No Qua-ckers," Brittany tells him. "My stuffed bunny."

Puck stops abruptly. "Wait a sec. We're down here looking for Brittany's stuffed animal? And why the hell were you down here with the rabbit anyway?"

"I got lost."

"Of course."

"Be nice, Noah," Rachel says. "It's an adventure. And at least your feet are dry."

At that point, they hit a dead end. They turn around and back track. When they see the arrow, Rachel X's it out, paints a new one and they head in the opposite direction.

After another four arrows have been painted, Rachel notices something in the distance. She stops.

"Do you guys see that?"

They all point their flashlights and look.

"Yeah," Puck says.

"I see it too," Santana adds.

They approach cautiously, though trying to be quiet while wading through knee high water isn't easy.

"Quackers!" Brittany squeals when they're closer.

Rachel is somewhat wary since the stuffed rabbit in question is suspended from the ceiling by a noose.

"You didn't leave him like that, did you, B?" Santana asks.

"No," Brittany replies. "He obviously gave up waiting for me."

"Or there's some crazy psycho down here with us," Puck mutters.

"Noah, you're not helping," Rachel admonishes.

"I never thought I'd say this," Santana says. "But I agree with Puck. Let's just get Quackers down and get the fuck out of here."

Rachel pulls what looks like a metal rod out of her bag. They watch as it extends into a walking stick. She then uses it to test the path in front of her.

"Paranoid much?" Puck mutters.

"You're the one worried about a psycho, Noah." Rachel is now standing right under Quackers. "Can you reach it?" she asks Puck.

He tries, but can't quite reach.

"Stay still," Rachel tells him. "Santana, give me a hand?"

With Santana's help, Rachel sits on Puck's shoulders. She pulls out a bowie knife and cuts the rope down. She loosens the noose and hands the rabbit to Brittany who squeals in delight.

Still on Puck's shoulders, Rachel examines the noose.

"There's an impressive attention to detail here," Rachel says. "This is a perfectly made noose."

"Do we even want to know why you know that?" Puck asks.

"No," Santana answers.

They help Rachel get down.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Puck says.

They quickly head back the way they came, following the arrows.

**…**

"How long were you down here?" Puck asks.

"Just a few days," Brittany answers. "I didn't think I'd ever get out. But my mom must have gotten worried, because she activated the locator chip they put in me when I was seven because they were tired of me getting lost all the time and so the police were able to easily find me."

"Then where the hell were you all summer?"

"Grounded."

"All summer?"

"Mom said she's tired of me getting lost in weird places," Brittany explains. "So she grounded me. It was so boring."

"You could have called someone."

"I lost my cell phone," Brittany says. "I dropped it in some water."

**…**

"What if the freak that did that to the rabbit is still down here?" Puck asks.

"Well then let's hope he's not around at the moment," Rachel replies.

"You could probably take him, Puckerman," Santana tells him. "Stop being such a pussy."

"Not if he's some weird psycho like Michael Meyers," Puck snaps back.

"More likely it's some transient suffering from PTSD that isn't quite right in the head. Though the fact that he's down here implies a possibly psychological need to be away from traditional society. It's possible if we did run into him, he would react negatively and we'd most likely have to flee."

"But that's only if he has a weapon," Brittany says. "Right, Rach?"

"Hold up," Puck says. "You understood all that?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"_I_ barely understood it," he replies.

"So?" Santana snaps. "I'm surprised you understand anything. Weren't you dropped on your head a lot as a kid?"

"Four isn't that many," Puck grumbles.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Santana replies.

"Where normally I find your arguing endearing," Rachel interrupts. "Now is not the time. Especially for people concerned about psychos."

"He doesn't have to be a psycho," Puck says. "He might just be a regular guy with some issues."

"Issues that he solves with crazy violence?" Santana mocks.

"We don't know that. Putting a noose around a stuffed rabbit isn't comforting, but maybe he's just crazy."

"Did you guys hear that?" Brittany interrupts.

They all stop moving and listen.

"I don't hear anything," Rachel says.

"Me neither," Santana agrees.

They continue walking, keeping an eye out for neon orange arrows.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Rachel asks after a few moments.

"What's that babe?"

"That movie, _Wolf Creek_."

"In what way is it similar?"

"We're extremely isolated with no means of communication. No one knows we're here, so there's really no one to help us and if someone were to come after us, we'd really have no defense."

No one says anything for a moment.

"If you weren't my bro, I'd smack you on the back of the head," Puck says. "Why'd you have to say that?"

"I'm simply saying-"

"Well don't. It's not helping."

"It wasn't intended to be helpful," Rachel replies. "Just an observation."

"Do you guys hear _that_?" Brittany interrupts again.

"B, if you're trying to freak us out," Santana says.

"No way, San," Brittany replies. "It sounds like there's someone back there."

"Oh my god," Puck groans. "Lopez, keep your women in check. Are they doing this on purpose? Or is this just some elaborate joke you're playing on me?"

"You _wish_ you were worth the effort, Puckerman."

"Let's just keep going," Rachel says. "According to my calculations, we're almost out."

"Oooh, maybe it'll be like that movie, _Open Water_," Brittany suggests.

"I don't think the water's deep enough for sharks," Rachel tells her.

"Thank god," Santana mutters.

"Do you guys hear that?" Puck interrupts.

"What the fuck, Puckerman?" Santana growls.

"I'm serious. It really sounds like someone's behind us."

They all stop and listen. There's definite splashing happening behind them.

"We need to get the fuck out of here," Puck says. "Now."

They all walk faster, which is difficult in two feet deep water. The increased speed also creates more noise. Because of this, Santana and Puck are constantly looking over their shoulders.

"What if someone changed the arrows?" Puck asks after a couple of turns. "He changed the direction of the arrows and is luring us to an evil lair or something."

"You read too many comic books, dude," Santana says.

"Noah, do you really think someone down here just happens to have the exact same color spray paint as I do, but also has the means to clean up the original arrow?" Rachel asks. "Because that seems highly unlikely."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Though now that you mention it, this does kind of remind me of the mo-"

"Stop talking," Puck interrupts.

"Yeah, babe," Santana agrees. "You're not helping."

"You guys are way too paranoid," Rachel replies. "This is _Lima_ for goodness sakes."

"That's exactly what they say in horror movies," Brittany points out.

"Oh my god," Puck says. "Did you just jinx us?"

"I did no such thing," Rachel replies.

Rachel then stops walking so abruptly that Brittany and Santana both slam into her. Only Brittany's fast reflexes stop Rachel from falling forward from the impact as she grabs Rachel's arm.

"It stopped," she whispers.

"Now they're just lying in wait," Puck adds.

"We've _got_ to get out of here," Santana whispers.

"According to my calculations," Rachel says. "We only have to hit three more arrows before we reach the original tunnel. So just keep walking."

They increase their pace even more. And when they finally see the third arrow, Puck has to restrain himself from whooping.

Once they're outside the tunnel, Puck and Santana run for Rachel's car. Brittany and Rachel follow quickly, but aren't sprinting like the other two.

"Open the door, Rach," Puck calls out.

"No one gets into my car until they're not wearing waders," she yells back. "Take them off and then put them in the trunk."

By the time Brittany and Rachel reach the car, both Puck and Santana are holding their waders gingerly.

"I don't even want to think about what's in that water," Santana says.

Rachel opens the trunk and the waders are dropped inside. Rachel and Brittany strip and do the same. Once everyone's in the car, Rachel pulls out hand sanitizer and passes it to Santana after she uses it.

"You're like a damn Swiss Army knife," Puck mutters.

"I'm taking that as a compliment," Rachel says as she puts the car in drive.

**…**

Back at the Berry residence, Rachel makes everyone hang up their waders on a hook in the garage.

Inside the house, Santana makes coffee, Puck asks to take a shower and Brittany is content to just hold Quackers.

"Where are you going?" Santana asks Rachel.

"Upstairs to put all this stuff away," Rachel replies before bounding up the stairs.

Once the coffee's done, Santana pours herself a cup and sits at the table with Brittany.

"What are we going to do now?" Brittany asks her.

"Something relaxing I hope," Santana tells her.

"You think they'll be school on Monday?"

"Don't know. Depends on well the prankster did his job, I guess."

"There'll be school on Monday, unfortunately," Rachel says as she enters the kitchen. "I highly doubt that they'll be locked out _that_ long."

"And what would you know about it, Berry?"

"Merely speculating, Lopez. Besides, if school _is_ still cancelled on Monday, I might have to transfer."

"What? Why?"

"Because I refuse to put my education in the hands of individual who are unable to undo a simple childhood prank."

"This _is_ Lima," Puck says entering the kitchen.

He's dressed in sweatpants and a wife beater.

Santana snorts. "Who are you trying to impress now, Puckerman?"

"It's the only thing I had that was clean, Lopez," Puck retorts. "So what now?"

"I think you should take a nap, babe," Santana tells Rachel.

"I'm not five years old."

"But you didn't sleep last night," Santana reminds her.

"I don't want to disturb my sleep cycle."

"What sleep cycle? You're not sleeping."

"But disrupting my normal pattern won't help," Rachel protests. "Yes, I took a nap yesterday afternoon, but then I wasn't able to sleep at all last night."

"Maybe you were too busy," Puck interjects.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Noah," Rachel replies.

"C'mon, we're all friends here."

"Speak for yourself," Santana mutters.

"She's just kidding," Brittany adds.

"I could ask you how," Puck continues. "But first I have to ask, why? I mean, it seems a bit elaborate, something that should be saved for April Fool's Day or something."

"Yes, well, I needed a vacation from McKinley today," Rachel says.

"Anyone else would just stay home," Puck replies.

"Well, I am certainly not anyone else," Rachel replies, primly.

"That's for sure."

"Actually," Rachel says. "Maybe a nap would be a good idea. You don't mind, do you Britt?"

Brittany looks up from her texting. "No. I'll see you later." She jumps up. "Thanks for helping me find Quackers." She gives Rachel a bear hug, kisses Santana on the cheek and punches Puck in the arm before skipping out.

"How's she getting home?"

"I'll give her a ride," Puck says, standing. "But I'll see you later, right bro?"

"Probably."

"Good. Later, Lopez."

"I'm glad you changed your mind about napping," Santana says when the front door slams shut.

"I didn't," Rachel replies. "I think we should talk."

"About?" Santana asks.

"Let's go up to my room. We'll be more comfortable."

Santana quietly follows Rachel up the stairs and into her room. She's feeling apprehensive. The tone of Rachel's voice isn't exactly comforting.

**…**

Once they're curled together comfortably on Rachel's bed, Santana waits anxiously for Rachel to speak.

"I wanted to talk about yesterday," Rachel says.

"Which part?"

Rachel just looks at her as if to say, "You know which part."

"You didn't feel pressured, did you?" Santana asks. "It didn't seem so, but sometimes you're really hard to read. But I know that you have no problem saying no if you have to."

"I'm just curious about what brought it on."

"B's actually the one that brought it up," Santana replies. "Because of the rumor. You know?"

Rachel nods and Santana isn't sure, but she thinks she hears a growl as well.

"And I said I'd talk to you about it. But then you skipped glee and we came over here and…well, you know the rest."

"I see."

"And I really did plan on talking to you about it. I know we've talked about a threesome, though it was only in passing. But at the same time, it's _Brittany_, so, you know."

"I do," Rachel agrees.

"You're not regretting it, now, are you?" Santana asks.

"No, definitely not. It's just, you don't want this to be a regular thing, do you?"

"No. Absolutely not," Santana replies. "I mean I love Britt and we used to, you know-"

"Fuck like bunnies?"

Santana looks embarrassed. "Yeah. But I'm in love with you. I mean, no one else would get property of Santana Lopez tattooed on them."

"And how many people would get Rachel Berry's bitch tattooed on _them_?"

"Exactly. It _has_ to be you and me. But that doesn't mean we can't mix it up a little bit, right?"

"So what you're saying, is that a threesome is akin to using handcuffs?" Rachel clarifies.

"Basically.

Rachel is quiet. Santana almost wishes they weren't cuddling, so she could see her face and maybe figure out what her girlfriend's thinking.

"I agree," Rachel says after the longest five minutes of Santana's life. "She won't be upset if we don't do that again anytime soon, will she?"

"No way," Santana replies in relief. "She just wants everyone to be happy."

"Good," Rachel sighs. "I hate it when Brittany's sad."

"Who doesn't?"

**…**

"So you wanna talk about this whole not sleeping thing?" Santana asks.

"Not really."

"Rach," Santana says. "I'm getting worried."

"And I'm not? I haven't really slept since Saturday night."

"Maybe you just need me around all the time to fall asleep," Santana jokes.

"That sounds rather lovely, actually. I _always_ miss you when you're not around."

Santana lets the words, as well as the tone, cover her like a warm blanket. Every so often, she worries that she's into Rachel more than Rachel is into her. But then her girlfriend says something that really reinforces how Rachel feels about her. "Well, something's obviously bothering you."

Rachel subconsciously nods and Santana waits.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" Rachel asks eventually.

"Well, yeah," Santana replies. "But that's kind of why I love you."

"I'm serious," Rachel insists.

"So am I."

"Because all week people have been treating me oddly. I'm starting to become paranoid.

"Like who?"

"Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Mr. Schue, Ms. Pillsbury."

"No one important then," Santana replies.

"Santana, that's not nice," Rachel chastises. "Those are our teammates and teachers."

"So? When they earn my respect, I'll give it to them."

"And then there's Coach Sylvester," Rachel continues.

"Coach?"

"It seems I have her respect," Rachel explains. "It's comforting in the same way it's comforting to be guarded by a vicious pit bull that could turn on you any minute."

"She does seem to like you now," Santana mentions. "It's different."

"Refreshing perhaps."

"For you."

"It has positives for you as well," Rachel points out. "Remember in the beginning where you were worried about sleeping with the enemy? Now that's no longer an issue."

"I guess."

They lie in silence for a bit.

"So you think I should just ignore them all because _you_ don't agree with them?" Rachel asks eventually.

"No, I'm saying you should ignore them because they don't respect you. Not the way that you deserve."

"You mean how everyone leaves me alone at the moment because they're always following your lead?"

Santana doesn't respond immediately. Even though Rachel has reassured her that she's forgiven, Santana still feels guilty occasionally. She _knows_ how cruel she's been to Rachel.

"San," Rachel interjects. "I'm not trying to assign blame. I'm just trying to understand what you're implying."

"I'm saying that they don't understand you. It's weird," Santana says. "They weren't necessarily a fan of Rachel Berry, but when you change, change in a way that exceeds their expectations, they get angry. As if they want you to stay the same because, I don't know. Because it's who they know and even if they don't like you, they're more afraid of change they don't understand. As if you can only exist in the box they've created. You're not allowed to climb out."

"But not you?" Rachel prompts.

"The Rachel Berry I fell for, even in the beginning, was already starting to change. Don't try to pretend otherwise. I realize now, looking back, that you were probably holding in a little of the crazy because you were worried about scaring me off. And I appreciate that. Because, honestly, I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd been given the full fledge Rachel Berry dating mode."

"Yeah, well, you held back for me as well," Rachel tells her. "Don't pretend you weren't holding your tongue about things I said. Even when we first started hanging out."

"Well, I knew you were crazy, so I figured I should just try to go with it."

"You make me want to be less crazy," Rachel says.

"I don't want you to change for me."

"It's not for you," Rachel replies. "It just sort of happened. Between you and Britt and Noah and the lack of ridicule at school, I was able to relax just a little bit."

"Jeez, if that's your idea of a little bit, it be interesting to see what constitutes a lot," Santana mutters.

"Well, we'll never know, I'm sure."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way, babe."

"I'm simply saying it will never happen," Rachel replies. "I have a feeling it would hinder my escape of this town, which is completely unacceptable."

"Maybe over the summer," Santana suggests.

"I should think not," Rachel says. "Senior year is our pivotal last year of high school. Even if I loathe much about McKinley, it is the hand I've been dealt and so I must act accordingly."

"Why does that mean?"

"There can be no relaxing. The routine stays. I haven't been working my ass off for all these years just to slack off at the last moment. I can only relax when I've achieved my goal."

"I wouldn't expect anything else, babe."

They lay in quiet long enough that Santana begins to think Rachel's fallen asleep.

"San?"

"I thought you fell asleep."

"Obviously not," Rachel replies. "Do you think maybe we could skip bro night tonight? Maybe it could be just you and me until Sunday? I just feel like we never have enough time together."

"Yeah," Santana replies. "I'd really like that."

"Oh good. I would too."

**…**

Santana insists on being the one to tell Puck and Brittany.

"I am perfectly capable of informing Noah that I'd prefer a night in," Rachel says.

"Of course you are, babe," Santana replies. "But my method is much quicker than the careful explanation you'll give."

"There's nothing wrong with providing a detailed elucidation. Noah deserves as much."

"Sometimes you give Puck way too much credit."

"Bros have to adhere to a certain code," Rachel replies.

"Whatever," Santana says looking at her cell phone. "B's fine with it."

"Brittany is easy going like that," Rachel replies. "What will she do instead?"

"I didn't ask."

"Santana."

"What? She'll tell me later, I'm sure." Santana checks her phone again. "Puck's mad."

"Did you tell him it was my idea?"

"No. I told him it was mine. I figured that would cause less of a fuss."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him to find some stupid skank to get rejected by because tonight you're mine."

"Must you be so crass?"

"You like it."

**…**

Santana makes Rachel go to sleep early Friday night.

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep too," Santana replies. "We'll just have to find _some_thing to entertain us tomorrow when you make me get up early."

Rachel smiles. "But what will we do in the afternoon, then?"

"Are you saying we can't do it more than once tomorrow?" Santana asks. "Are you punishing me?"

"Thanks for taking care of me."

"Of course. You're my girl."

**…**

Monday McKinley is open. Grudgingly the students trickle in. Even though everyone showed up, a great many hoped that it would be cancelled again.

Rachel is opening up her locker when she's approached by Tina and Artie.

"Have you heard the latest?" Tina asks.

"That's quite vague. Could you be a bit more specific?"

"Jacob Ben Israel's blog?" Artie asks.

"I refuse to read his insidious blog," Rachel replies.

"Normally, I'd agree," Artie says. "But he's got this whole thing about the school cancellation on Friday."

"Let me guess," Rachel says. "It wasn't a gas leak."

"Nope," Tina answers. "Prankster struck again. Seems he somehow managed to lock up the entire school."

"What? He locked all the doors? That's not that impressive," Rachel replies.

"No. He somehow blocked all the doors so no one could get in. After hours of trying on Friday, they had to break in. But what's really freaky is no one can figure out how he got out. Every door and window was locked."

"Maybe they were still inside, just hiding," Rachel suggests. "Not that I don't appreciate the information, but why?"

Tina and Artie look at each other for a moment. "We thought maybe you knew something about it," Artie explains finally. "I mean, Santana and/or Puck are still the most likely candidates."

"I assure you it's neither of them."

"Because they've told you they're not?" Tina asks. "That's not enough of a reason."

"It is for me."

"No offense, Rachel," Artie says. "But do you think perhaps you're too trusting?"

Rachel sighs. "If I can't trust my girlfriend and my best friend, then who am I supposed to trust?"

"She's got a point," Mike says walking up with Finn.

"You don't even know what we're talking about," Tina replies.

"No," Mike agrees. "But if she doesn't trust her girlfriend and her best friend, then she's up shit creek, isn't she?"

"Elegantly put, my man," Finn says. "What _are_ you guys talking about?"

"Who the prankster could be," Artie answers.

"There's no way it's Puck," Finn says. "He's not smart enough."

Both Tina and Artie half cough, half laugh into their hands.

"Yes, well, I suppose that's one way to look at it," Rachel says. "Who do you think it is then?"

"Honestly? You."

Finn actually managed to shock Rachel. She hopes her astonishment comes off as something else.

"Finn Hudson, why would you say such a thing?"

Finn shrugs. "It makes sense. You're one of the smartest people _I_ know. And who ever did it has to be organized and a good planner."

"That's true," Artie allows.

"Except that I'm not a delinquent," Rachel tells him.

"Yeah, but you said it yourself. Santana is your girlfriend and Puck is your best friend. Prolonged exposure or whatever."

"So because I'm smart and I associate with known trouble makers?" Rachel questions. "That seems like a leap of logic."

"Who else could it be?" Finn asks. "All the other smart kids wouldn't have the guts and the screw ups aren't smart enough. I mean, there have been some _really_ complicated pranks."

"I hate to say this," Mike says. "But he has a point."

"Thanks Mike."

"I don't think he does," Rachel says.

"Plus, whoever it is, warned us away," Finn continues. "Which means it's most likely someone _in_ glee. But the real reason I think it's _you_ over Puck or Santana is that whoever it is warned Becky. And neither of them would have thought of warning her."

"Another good point," Mike agrees.

"Yeah," Arties says. "I'm getting weirded out. That was way too well thought out for Finn."

"Hey!" Finn says.

"It wouldn't be that big of deal, Rachel," Tina says. "If anything, it would be kind of awesome. I mean, you'd be like a god or something. No one's ever managed to pull off so much without being caught."

"That still doesn't mean it's me," Rachel protests.

"What's the big deal, Rach?" Finn asks. "It'd be really awesome if it was you."

"Until the administration hears the rumors and then I'm given detention or worse suspended."

"They wouldn't do that," Finn says.

"Of course they would," Rachel replies. "Whoever it is has made them look foolish on multiple occasions and disrupted things. Take Friday for example; they had to cancel classes. They're embarrassed, I'm sure and are looking for someone to punish."

"Then we won't tell anyone," Finn continues.

"One, it's not me," Rachel says. "Two, we're having this conversation in the middle of the hallway. Three, because of that, I wouldn't be surprised to find the speculation in Jacob's blog tomorrow. He does like to skulk around. Four, you guys can't keep a secret to save your lives. And five, it's not me."

"Are you sure?" Finn tries once more.

"Finn, man," Mike says. "She said no.

"Fine," Finn says. "But it would have been so cool if it was."

Everyone else, but Rachel nods at this.

**…**

Rachel exits her second period class to find Michelle Jamieson waiting for her.

"Walk you to class?"

Rachel shrugs. "Why not?"

"Worried your girlfriend will be jealous?"

"Aren't _you_?"

"Touché. So I heard an interesting rumor about you today."

"Lucky you."

"It seems that in addition to being a stud, you're also a genius," Michelle explains.

"While I consider myself to be intelligent," Rachel says. "I wouldn't call myself a genius."

"Anyone that's managed to pull off all the pranks you have without being caught is a genius in my book," Michelle replies.

Rachel stops so abruptly that Michelle gets almost whip lash.

"I'm going to kill Finn," Rachel mutters.

"Hudson? Why's that?"

"Because he's the jag-off that started that rumor. I told him to keep his speculation to himself. Apparently he can't listen."

"So it's not you?"

"He's going to get me suspended. I'm sure Figgins is looking for someone to punish for all this. With no viable suspects, he was forced to simply put up with it. But now, if he thinks he has someone, he's going to pursue it with vigor."

"It'd be so awesome if it was you," Michelle tells her. "And fucking hot."

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But I cannot have a suspension on my permanent record. It could greatly affect my chances of getting into Julliard."

"Too bad," Michelle says. "Because if it was true, I'd be pursuing you hard core."

"Yes, well, thank you, I suppose. But this is my class."

"Later, hot stuff."

**…**

At lunch, Rachel apprehensively sits at her usual table.

"Don't worry, girl," Mercedes says. "_We_ don't think it's you."

"There's no way," Kurt agrees.

"Speak for yourself," Tina says.

"I'm still on the fence, personally," Artie says.

"Well, I just can't see it, myself," Kurt says.

"Yeah," Mercedes agrees. "No offense Rachel. But I just can't see you sneaking into school in the middle of the night. You know?"

"None taken, Mercedes," Rachel replies. "I'm certainly not known for my stealth."

"That's what happens when Finn can't play Xbox for a night," Kurt says. "His brain goes to crazy places."

"Apparently."

**…**

Last period, Rachel is once again dragged into Coach Sylvester's office by the same two freshmen Cheerios.

"_Bye_ Rachel," they coo before they leave.

"You seem to have cast some sort of Sapphic spell over my Cheerios," Sue comments as Rachel sits. "Luckily it doesn't seem to be affecting their performance, otherwise I would have to reconsider our alliance."

"Lucky in deed."

"I assume Figgins hasn't called you down to his office yet," Sue begins.

"Not yet," Rachel replies. "But it seems inevitable."

"It wasn't Ladyface that started it was it? I know he and you don't always see eye to eye."

"Finn actually figured it out."

"Perhaps I was wrong about this place," Sue muses. "If _he_ can figure something out, they might actually be educating."

"Anything's possible, I'm sure."

"Well, keep your chin up. They have nothing."

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "There's nothing to have."

"And everything else? It's going well?"

"Uh, yes. Everything else is going fine. After a relaxing weekend, it's easier to ignore the mindless sheep that scurry through the hallways. I only wish the latest scandal didn't involve me."

"The price of greatness, I assure you."

"I suppose I should get used to the feeling then."

"Being a winner is more difficult than it appears.

"You would know, Coach."

"Damn straight, Berry."

**…**

Just as predicted, Rachel's called into Figgins' office Tuesday morning. Mr. Schuester is there in her defense. Rachel wishes she felt more reassured by this. Perhaps if he hadn't pulled her aside last week.

"I'm sure you know what this is about, young lady," Figgins begins.

"You don't really think it's Rachel, do you?" Will asks him.

Just then the door swings open and Sue strolls in. She leans against the wall by Rachel and waits.

"Sue, as you can see, I'm in the middle of something," Figgins tells her.

"I know. I just came to watch the festivities."

"Sue," Will begins. "You're not going to get Rachel expelled for something she didn't do."

"Oh William," Sue says. "How little you know. It appears I was correct about all that hair gel seeping into your brain and causing damage."

"Sue, I'm only going to ask one more time," Figgins says.

"Actually, Mr. Figgins," Rachel interrupts. "I don't mind. I just want to get this over as quickly as possible."

"Rachel, you can't be serious," Will says. "Sue wants to destroy you."

"I know that, Mr. Schuester," Rachel replies. "However, since I'm innocent, there is nothing she can do." She turns back to Figgins. "And if I'm punished for something I didn't do based purely on circumstantial evidence, I will be returning tomorrow with my fathers and my lawyers and it will be very unpleasant, I assure you."

"I do not respond well to threats, Ms. Berry," Figgins says.

"It's not a threat, sir," Rachel replies. "Just information."

Figgins sighs. "Fine. Will, Sue can stay. But if at any point, it's deemed necessary, she may be thrown out. Is that amendable to everyone? Good. Now, Ms. Berry, I've heard talk of you being behind what happened on Friday."

"The gas leak?"

"We all know it wasn't a gas leak," Figgins replies.

"We do?" Rachel questions. "Then why did you tell us it was a gas leak?"

"Rachel," Will says. "Please don't pretend you haven't heard the rumors stating that it wasn't a gas leak."

"Of course I have," Rachel replies. "However, as I've told you before, I place very little faith in rumors. Many times they prove to be false."

"That is a very naïve point of view, Ms. Berry," Figgins says.

"I prefer to think of it as optimistic."

"Either way, I have reason to believe that you are behind not only last Friday's incident, but every incident that has taken place this year."

"And what gave you that reason?" Rachel questions.

"Young lady, I will not put up with a smartass."

"I am no such thing," Rachel says. "I'm simply curious where this accusation comes from. Because if it's because of rumors, then please remember my previous comment."

"There's no one else it could be," Figgins replies.

"_That's_ your defense?" Rachel is flabbergasted. "If that's all your relying on, I _could_ give you several names. However, I wouldn't because I'm not going to implicate anyone without concrete proof."

"Rachel where were you Thursday night?" Will asks.

"Mr. Schuester, are you siding with Mr. Figgins?"

"Just answer the question, please, Rachel."

"Shameful, William," Sue mutters.

"I was at home, sleeping as one should if they want to be properly prepared for a day of scholastic endeavors. Of course, since everyone in my house was also asleep, I cannot give you any witness statements."

"Rachel," Will says. "We have video of you pulling into the school parking lot at midnight."

"Really?" Rachel asks. "Show me."

"What?"

"Show me. If you have proof that I did this. Then show me."

"You said you had proof," Will says to Figgins. "She has a right to see it."

"No."

"I have a right to see it," Rachel insists.

"You don't need to see it," Figgins says.

"Because all you have is a blurry video with _some_one pulling in at midnight?" Rachel asks.

"We don't have any cameras in the parking lot," Sue interjects.

"Sue!"

"Trying to trick her into confessing based off of rumors is dirty pool," Sue says. "Which, normally I approve of, but your approach was subpar at best. You should have picked a better partner than William here."

"Is that what you were trying to do?" Will asks.

"It's been months," Figgins says. "I _have_ to get to the bottom of this. Whoever this person is has the school under his thumb and I won't have it. This is _my_ school and I won't be held hostage by some sixteen year old punk."

"May I leave, now?" Rachel asks.

"Yes, you may, Rachel," Will says.

"Thank you."

"If you don't have any proof, then I think Rachel can leave," Will tells Figgins.

Rachel stands and walks out.

"Well this _has_ been educational," Sue says. "So no one is sacred to you, huh, Will? I can't believe you'd give up your only talent so easily. I didn't think it was possible, but you've actually sunk in my estimation. Thanks for the show, Figgins. Next time, maybe you'll consult a professional about such things."

Sue then exits as well.

"Please don't ask me to do anything like that again," Will tells Figgins.

"Don't look at me like that William," he replies. "I'm in a difficult position. Whoever is pulling these pranks has escaped detection for far too long. I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"And what if she's innocent? Would you have suspended her anyway?"

"Something _has_ to be done, Will," Figgins argues. "You give me a solution to the problem and then you can criticize me."

"I need to get to class," Will says before walking out.

**…**

When Sue exits Figgins' office, she finds Rachel waiting for her.

"Thank you," Rachel says.

"You didn't need my help."

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "But you did expedite the process, which I _do_ appreciate."

"Those two wouldn't know a proper interrogation if it kicked them in the face."

"They do need to work on their technique, certainly."

"I'd admit to being curious how you did it, if I thought you'd tell me," Sue says.

"I'm glad we understand each other, Coach."

"However, The Cult of Sue may require your candor at a later date."

"I can't make any promises."

**…**

When Finn walks into glee that afternoon he is greeted by an irate Rachel Berry.

"What did I do?" he asks.

"I spent part of first period defending myself to Figgins and Mr. Schue. And it's all _your_ fault."

"Mr. Schue?"

"I _told_ you someone would over hear us," Rachel continues. "If I am punished in any way for this, I am holding you entirely responsible."

"C'mon, Rach, I didn't mean to get you in trouble," Finn protests. "You guys asked and I answered is all."

"What the hell did you do, Hudson?" Santana growls, suddenly appearing behind Finn.

"Nothing. I swear. It was just a big misunderstanding."

"Santana, it's fine," Rachel says. "I can fight my own battles with Finn."

"Yeah," Santana allows. "But you shouldn't have to."

"Ah, that's so sweet, S," Brittany coos.

"What's going on?" Will says upon entering.

Santana is obviously angry with Finn and apparently Rachel, who is standing in between, is the only thing stopping her from hurting him.

"Nothing," Rachel answers. She pushes Santana back until she's in front of a chair and makes her sit.

"Rachel, listen, do you think you and I could talk outside for a moment?" Will asks.

"I'd rather not, Mr. Schue. You made your stance quite clear this morning."

"Rachel, I'm sorry about that. Really," Will tells her.

"I'm sure you are, Mr. Schue."

"He told me he had a tape," Will continues. "I realize now I shouldn't have believed him."

"Obviously. There isn't money in the budget for cameras," Rachel replies.

"I know that now. I just never thought he'd lie."

"It's fine, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "Nothing that happened this morning was any sort of revelation. I'd rather just move on."

"You can't be serious," Will counters. "_Nothing_?"

"Nothing."

"What about Coach Sylvester?" Will pushes.

"Nothing, Mr. Schue."

"Uh, Mr. Schue?" Finn says, raising his hand. "Maybe we should just rehearse now? I'm feeling kind of awkward."

There's a murmur of agreement from everyone.

Will sighs. "Fine."

**…**

"What the hell was that about?" Santana asks as she drives Rachel home.

"Just another chapter in my adversarial relationship with Mr. Schue," Rachel replies.

"What did he do now?"

"He believed the story of me being the prankster."

"Babe, you are the prankster," Santana points out.

"And," Rachel continues over Santana. "He conspired with Figgins to trick me into confessing."

"What?"

"They attempted good cop, bad cop," Rachel explains. "But they couldn't pull it off properly. They tried to make me confess by saving they had evidence they didn't have. I, of course, didn't buy it."

"Mr. Schue was the good cop, I assume?"

"He was. I realize Mr. Schuester and I don't always see eye to eye about things, but I can't believe he thinks it's me."

"Rach, it is you," Santana reminds her again. "_And_ you've been going through a bunch of changes that have garnered some attention. You shouldn't be surprised if people take note and draw their own conclusions."

"Even Finn?"

"Yeah, that threw me too," Santana agrees. "Who knew he had deduction skills? So what did Schuester want to talk about, you think?"

"I'm sure he wanted to apologize or at least attempt reconciliation. I was rather harsh with him about the whole thing."

"You are unbelievable," Santana tells her.

"Why?"

"Because. You did it. You did it _all_ and I _know_ you did it all and yet I totally believed you _didn't_ do it while we were in glee."

"I don't know why you doubt me after Noah and I switched personalities. That was quite convincing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's true."

"Where's Britt?" Rachel asks suddenly. Usually she receives a ride home as well.

"She said she had something to do," Santana replies.

"So it's just you and me again?"

"Guess so," Santana smirks.

"Whatever shall we do?"

"I've got an idea or two."

**…**

"Why don't you just admit you did it?" Santana asks after when they're lounging in Rachel's room

"Because, I don't want to be suspended. I can't have that on my permanent record. Think of the scandal."

"I doubt there'd be a scandal."

"In addition, I wouldn't be able to pull anything anymore." Rachel leans over to her bedside table and holds up her pink and white polka dotted book. "Look at all these ideas I have that would go unfulfilled. A tragedy, I'm sure."

Santana grabs the book from Rachel's hands and flips through it. She's right, there are a lot of ideas contained inside. And it probably would be a tragedy if some of them didn't happen.

"You know I've been thinking," Santana says.

"Does it hurt?"

Santana ignores her. "I think you and I should pull something together. I mean you pulled a couple with Puck. If you're going to be pulling shit, it should be with me, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Rachel agrees. "It's just never come up. Any ideas?"

"I have one or two."

"Good. Though I'd like to wait a bit until the heat's died down somewhat."

"Fair enough."

**…**

It only takes three days before the school is all a buzz with new gossip. Apparently the hockey team was caught trying to steal a rival school's mascot. It didn't help that they were all drunk. They probably would have escaped with just a reprimand if they hadn't caused so much damage getting into the school.

It's a public relations nightmare for Figgins and so discovering the identity of the prankster takes a backseat again.

And since Jacob Ben Israel's blog has pictures, police reports and mug shots, everyone else just forgets that Rachel might be the prankster.

"It's one of the only good things about how stupid people around here are," Santana tells Rachel over lunch on Friday. "You can always rely on someone to eventually do something dumb and draw focus."

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "I never thought I'd be so glad that we go to a school with morons."

"You and me both, babe," Santana replies. "You and me both."


	11. Berry verses Lopez

**Title:** Berry verses Lopez  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel and Santana make a little wager.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~3,400  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.

Rachel is woken up in one of the best possible ways, with Santana's lips pressed against hers. At first she thinks she's dreaming since she knows for a fact that she fell asleep next to Noah.

Opening her eyes finds Santana sprawled out on top of her, so Rachel wraps her arms around her girlfriend and deepens the kiss.

Rachel's hand is sliding into Santana's jeans when they hear, "Hot."

Breaking apart, they both look over at a now wide awake Noah.

"That's the third best sight I've ever woken up to," Noah grins.

"Really?" Rachel asks. "What are the other two?"

"We don't need to hear that," Santana interjects.

"Well the second was a smokin' hot Cheerio blowing-"

Noah is cut off by Santana pushing him off the bed. He hits the ground with a grunt.

"Rach doesn't want to hear about your sexual proclivities," Santana tells him.

"Sexual proclivities? She really is rubbing off on you," Noah says. "And my bro has heard worse. Worried she'll learn what a freak you are in bed?"

"I already know that," Rachel interrupts. "It's sexy as hell."

"Not that I don't enjoy being pushed on the floor," Noah says. "Cause I don't. But what are you doing here so early?"

"She missed me," Rachel suggests.

"I just really need to talk to Rachel," Santana tells them.

"And you couldn't wait another couple hours?"

"Nope."

**…**

After Santana practically pushes Puck out the door, she runs back up to Rachel's room and flops onto the bed.

"Did you think of a new position you want to try again?" Rachel asks.

"Not this time, babe," Santana replies. "I had a prank idea I want us to pull tonight."

"All right. Does it require a lot of preparation?"

"Some," Santana says, pulling off her shirt. "But we've got all day."

**…**

Monday morning when the bell rings for the end of second period, it doesn't stop. No one knows what to do. Figgins can't seem to find a competent janitor to help, nor are any of the office personal any assistance.

Meanwhile, the students mull around the halls, some covering their ears. The bell is painfully piercing after only a few minutes. No one's really going to class and teachers are wandering into the halls.

Santana's glad that Rachel made her bring ear plugs because it allows her and B to still glide through the halls like normal. Brittany is wearing those large plastic earmuffs. Santana has no idea where they came from, but seeing Brittany pull them out of her locker, made Santana grin.

No one really knows what to do. The bell's been ringing for over twenty minutes now. Trying to have class is absurd. Instead, everyone tries to get away from the sound, ducking into bathrooms and offices; which muffles the sound slightly.

Finally, Figgins decides to pull the plug on the whole system, turning it off and literally unplugging every aspect.

Everyone's relief immediately becomes a groan because now they have to go to class.

Figgins spends the rest of the morning turning the bell back on when it's supposed to go off. It is quickly unplugged again.

This lasts until lunch when it's decided they'll just make an announcement that class is over.

**…**

It's all people can talk about at lunch. After months and months of this sort of thing, everyone is sort of used to it, but they still enjoy the speculation.

Santana is sitting with Rachel at lunch, for once. B is off somewhere being Brittany.

Everyone, even Rachel, is surprised when Santana plops down next to her girlfriend, acting as if it's nothing strange.

Therefore, Kurt starts his usual conversation, trying to figure out who's behind the latest prank.

"We have this discussion every time," Tina points out. "And we haven't figured it out yet."

"Yes," Kurt agrees. "But maybe someone noticed a clue this time."

"You say _that_every time too," Artie offers.

"Give it up, Hummel," Santana says. "If you haven't figured it out by now then you never will."

"And what do you know about it?" Mercedes asks.

"Nothing. I'm just saying."

"Well, unless you've got something useful to add," Kurt says. "Keep it to yourself."

"Watch it Hummel," Santana growls.

"Rein it in, _Santana_," Kurt replies. "Now that you're dating our little diva, you've lost your scare factor."

Santana curls her fingers into a fist slowly.

"San," Rachel whispers. "We need him for glee."

Santana sighs and relaxes her fists. "You're lucky she's here or you'd find yourself in a very uncomfortable place later."

"Like in the back of a Volkswagen?" Artie jokes.

**…**

"So that was pretty badass," Santana says as she lounges on Rachel's bed that evening.

"It was certainly a ridiculous day," Rachel agrees as she attempts her English paper.

"You know I've always enjoyed terrorizing the school by striking fear into everyone with my actions. But this? This was pretty awesome too. Causing chaos is fun."

"It is indeed," Rachel agrees. "Now you're almost as badass as me."

"Hell no!" Santana says, sitting up. "Rach, I love you, but I'm the badass in this relationship."

"Perhaps in the halls," Rachel allows. "But in terms of pranks, I've got you beat."

"Just because you've pulled off a few more than me, doesn't mean anything."

"Oh really?" Rachel replies. "Care to make a little wager?"

"I'm listening."

"Starting Wednesday, we each start pulling pranks until Friday. Whoever has the best one, wins."

"Wins what?"

"The satisfaction of a job well done," Rachel replies.

Santana snorts.

"Fine," Rachel huffs. "If I win, you have to take me to that new vegan place I wanted to go to last week, but you refused. _And_you have to sing a duet of my choosing with me in glee."

"And when I win, you're baking me some, 'I'm sorry I said I was more badass than you' cookies-"

"Simple enough."

"_And_next weekend, I get to handcuff you and do whatever I want."

"Deal." Rachel holds out her hand and they shake on it.

"Who'll be the judge?" Santana asks.

"Britt and Noah, since they're the only ones that know."

"Fine. But no trying to sway either of them."

Rachel looks insulted. "I prefer to win fair and square," she says.

"So what about that book of pranks you've already thought up?" Santana asks. "You'll have an unfair advantage."

"I suppose that's true," Rachel allows. "But what if I promise to come up with all new ideas?"

"Yeah?"

"As I said, I prefer to win fair and square."

"Well, you do keep your promises, babe," Santana says. "So as long as you promise to come up with completely new pranks, I'm in."

"Excellent. You are so going down Lopez."

"Ha! You wish."

**…**

Tuesday during lunch, Santana starts a fury of rumors as she drags both Puck and Brittany into the choir room and locks the door. Inside Rachel is carelessly playing a tune none of them recognize.

"What the hell, Lopez?" Puck asks. "Just because I don't hit chicks doesn't mean you can just push me into rooms."

"Excuse Santana, Noah," Rachel tells him. "But we need to talk to you two about something."

"Finally," Puck says. "I knew your guys couldn't resist the Puckster. Berry needs a little freaky."

"Hardly," Santana scoffs.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "Besides, we already did that."

Puck's jaw actually drops.

"Anyway," Rachel says. "As the only two aware of the true identity of the prankster, we need a favor."

"Yeah?" Puck asks. "What?"

"San and I have made a little wager," Rachel continues. "Starting tomorrow, we're going to be pulling individual pranks. We're not going to tell you who pulls what. But we need you to separately evaluate each prank. Whoever has the best score Friday night, wins."

"What do you win?" Brittany asks.

"Cookies," Santana answers.

"Dinner," Rachel says.

"You guys are fucking boring," Puck tells them.

"Will you do it or not, Puckerlame?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do it."

"Me too," Brittany chirps.

"Excellent," Rachel says. "Just give each prank a score from one to ten. Ten being incredibly awesome and one being super lame."

"Anything else?" Puck asks.

"I think that covers it," Rachel tells him.

**…**

Tuesday evening they spend apart, wanting to plan and scheme. Both are determined to win, more out of pride than the actual prize. Though, Santana will admit the idea of Rachel handcuffed is pretty hot and is definitely incentive.

Because Rachel decided on the points system, Santana figures she can win by sheer volume. She has a lot idea for small, easy things she can pull off. She also knows that Rachel tends to do bigger, more complex things and will most likely only do one a day.

Though there is something big that Santana's always wanted to try and she supposes this is just the opportunity. She quickly begins planning.

**…**

Wednesday morning, all the students gather around the swimming pool. Someone has filled it with grape slushie. No one can believe someone was able to get a hold of so much. Several jocks are mysteriously pushed into the shallow end to raucous laughter. After that everyone is banned in case anyone else falls in and possibly drowns. It takes several days to clean everything up.

Meanwhile the entire student body is becoming freaked out because all the water in the entire school is green, from the drinking fountains to the urinals. And no one can figure out how or why, especially since the water itself seems fine.

That afternoon baseball practice is cancelled because every single baseball has disappeared. The coach has the team look everywhere, but there is neither hide nor hair of any.

**…**

Thursday, Figgins comes in to find all the glass of his office has been painted black. He sighs in defeat and sends a janitor out to purchase a large amount of paint remover. By the time students are strolling in, all three janitors are furiously scrubbing.

As people use the bathrooms throughout the day, they find themselves stuck because someone has removed the door handles on the inside. People are unable to escape until someone else has to use the bathroom. It doesn't help when no one stays behind to explain the situation, simply running out, leaving behind a bewildered rescuer who soon finds themselves in the exact situation.

Meanwhile in the teacher's lounge, someone has replaced all the sugar with salt and all the non dairy creamer with flour.

However, the most peculiar occurrence of the day is the fire extinguishers going off, because this only happens when someone walks by. By lunch, almost everyone has the remains of extinguisher foam somewhere on their person.

**…**

Friday, the guys that have gym first period walk into the locker room and find an odd looking apparatus sitting in the corner. It's a long almost vertical box that stands about five feet tall. On top is an opening to look into, almost like a Viewmaster. Taped to the whole thing is a small typed note that reads, "Look inside."

Someone finally walks up to it and takes a look.

"Holy shit!" he exclaims.

Everyone watches as he keeps his face pressed against it for what seems like forever. Finally, someone loses their patience and pulls him away before looking himself.

"You guys _definitely_want to look in there," the first one says.

By the time first period ends, almost every guy in school knows there's a porno playing in the boys' locker room

Throughout the day, guys arrive earlier and earlier for gym, though they're all late to leave the locker room.

However, in the middle of third period, all those that had gym first now have a bright red ring on their face where they pressed up against the apparatus. Rubbing it doesn't make it go away. Neither does scrubbing with soap and water. Some even go to the nurse's office and try rubbing alcohol.

Because no one knows what exactly caused it, it isn't until last period that someone concludes that the red marks are from the porno apparatus. But it's really too late to do anything. And so by five o' clock, 98.7% of the male population at McKinley have a bright red circle emblazed on their face.

The female half of McKinley's population spends the second half of the day, laughing at the guys.

**…**

As if the day isn't strange enough, there seem to be stray cats wandering the halls. No one is sure how many, but there have to be at least a dozen. It certainly sounds like a lot when they're meowing. However, they're nearly impossible to catch and people begin to become annoyed.

**…**

During lunch, the PA system kicks on with a whine of feedback and then a minute of static. When the music starts, it takes a moment, but people quickly recognize the tune

_You let me violate you__  
><em>_You let me desecrate you__  
><em>_You let me penetrate you__  
><em>_You let me complicate you_

_Help me; I broke apart my insides__  
><em>_Help me; i've got no soul to sell__  
><em>_Help me; the only thing that works for me__  
><em>_Help me get away from myself_

_I wanna fuck you like an animal__  
><em>_I wanna feel you from the inside__  
><em>_I wanna fuck you like an animal__  
><em>_My whole existence is flawed_

_You get me closer to God__  
><em>_You can have my isolation; you can have the hate that it brings__  
><em>_You can have my absence of faith; you can have my everything_

_Help me tear down my reason__  
><em>_Help me; it's your sex I can smell__  
><em>_Help me; you make me perfect__  
><em>_Help me become somebody else_

_I wanna fuck you like an animal__  
><em>_I wanna feel you from the inside__  
><em>_I wanna fuck you like an animal__  
><em>_My whole existence is flawed_

_You get me closer to God__  
><em>_Through every forest, above the trees__  
><em>_Within my stomach, scraped off my knees__  
><em>_I drink the honey inside your hive__  
><em>_You are the reason I stay alive_

It plays on a loop throughout lunch and everyone is very surprised that Figgins doesn't put a stop to it.

Of course none of the students know that the administration doesn't know where the music is coming from. Unable to find the source, they can't stop it.

Luckily for them, it stops when the end of lunch bell rings.

**…**

Friday afternoon, the students of McKinley leave feeling off balance. Normally a prank is pulled and then there's nothing for up to weeks at a time. They've never experience multiple in a week, and definitely not multiple in a day. Everyone is relieved to leave, wondering what could be in store for them on Monday.

**…**

Friday night instead of spending the night in pairs, Brittany, Santana, Puck and Rachel hang out at her house. They order pizza after Puck, of course, shows up with beer. Sitting at the kitchen table as they eat, Rachel begins to figure out who won the bet.

"Okay, so first up," Rachel says. "How much for the slushie in the pool?"

"Nine," Puck replies.

"Eight," Brittany answers.

"Green water?"

"Ten," they both reply.

"Missing baseballs?"

"Seven," Puck says.

"Eight," Brittany replies.

"All right, day two," Rachel continues.

"You'll tell us who pulled what when we're all done, right?" Puck asks.

"Of course. Okay, first up, painting Figgins office black."

"Nine," Puck tells her.

"Eight," Brittany says.

"No door handles in the bathroom."

"Seven," they say together.

"Replacing the sugar with the salt?"

"Four," Puck answers.

"Three," Brittany replies. "Lame."

"Fire extinguishers?"

"Definitely a ten," Puck says. "I still can't figure that out."

"Ten," Brittany agrees.

"All right. Today. The red marks on the face."

"Nine," Puck grumbles. "And that was a totally rotten trick. What happened to warning us beforehand?"

"Ten. That was hilarious."

"The cats?"

"That was weird," Brittany says. "Two, because it made me feel bad for the cats all day. And none of them would let me pick them up."

"Five," Puck answers. "I agree with Britt, though. That was weird."

"_Closer_playing during lunch?"

"Seven," Puck replies.

"Five," Brittany tells Rachel. "I took off points for originality."

Rachel quickly adds up the numbers. First Santana, then hers. And then she double checks it, once and then again. Finally, she goes to the junk drawer and pulls out a calculator and then precedes to add it up again.

After Rachel begins entering numbers for the _third_time, Santana gets fed up. "So who won already?"

"Apparently," Rachel says. "It's a tie."

"What?"

"No fucking way," Santana growls.

"We both have a total of 75," Rachel continues. "You saw me check and double check it."

"Triple check, even," Brittany adds.

"Let me see that," Santana says, swiping the paper from Rachel.

She doesn't remember exactly each number given, but she knows Rachel wrote them down correctly. Instead, Santana goes over Rachel's math. It's correct, which Santana knew, but just couldn't believe.

"So now what?" Brittany asks.

Rachel shrugs. "I'll bake you cookies if you take me to dinner."

"Fine," Santana huffs. "I'm still way more badass than you."

"Maybe at other shit," Puck says. "But my bro here rules at the pranks."

"So who did what?" Brittany asks.

"Yes, well, I would think that is obvious," Rachel says. "But I made the water green, took all the baseballs, rigged the fire extinguishers, and put that thing in the locker room."

"I knew it!" Puck crows triumphantly. "Only Santana would make the pool into a giant slushie and there's no way she would have set up that locker room thing. Though, one question, Rach."

"Yes?"

"Where did you get the porno?"

"Yeah," Santana pipes up. "I've been wondering that too."

"Well, there's this thing called the internet," Rachel replies. "The rumor is it was actually created to increase the output of pornography. It wasn't too difficult to find something suitable."

"Damn," Puck says. "I think I'm going to put you in charge of finding me porn because you finding it in such a limited amount of time, building that thing and installing it all, is impressive."

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel replies. "But you know very well that finding such things isn't that difficult. However, I'd be happy to send you the links I found in my search."

Santana's beginning to think she's dreaming because her girlfriend, Rachel Berry, just offered Puck links to internet porn. She pinches herself. Nope, wide awake. Maybe Rachel's green water made everyone a little bit crazier.

**…**

The next afternoon, after Britt and Puck have left, Santana pushes Rachel onto her bed and straddles her.

"I know we were censoring ourselves cause Puck was here," she tells Rachel. "But I'd might rather handcuff you than have the cookies."

Rachel pouts.

"It's not because I don't like your cookies, babe," Santana says hastily. "It's just the idea of you handcuffed to this bed is really fucking hot."

Rachel grins. "I understand. However, if you do go with that option, I'm allowed to change my mind as well and will most likely require you to do a duet with me. Which would be wonderful, because I already came up with some ideas. I was thinking either "It's You" from _Dames at Sea_ or "I'll Cover You" from _Rent_. Or maybe "Goodnight My Someone" from _The Music Man_."

"All musicals?"

"Of course. It's always been my hope to sing a musical duet with my leading man. However, since my leading man is you, so to speak, I'd love to sing with you."

"But in front of everyone?" Santana whines. "I mean, I have a rep to maintain, babe."

"Well those were just my first thoughts," Rachel explains. "I planned on doing full and proper research after I won."

"Does it _have_to be a musical, though?"

Still pinned under Santana, Rachel nods. "It does."

Santana sighs. "Why do I love you?"

Rachel grabs Santana's shoulders and flips them so Santana is under Rachel.

"I'm full of surprises?" Rachel suggests as she begins undressing.

Santana grins. She can survive without the handcuffs for now.

**…**

Monday morning, Rachel greets Santana with a large batch of "I'm sorry I said I was more badass than you" cookies.

**A/N:** I know this might not be what people had in mind for a Rachel/Santana combo prank, but I really wanted them to have this competition. Fear not, I'll have them try more together at a later date.


	12. Playing With Fire

Playing With Fire  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Sue, OFC, Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel and Santana attempt another prank together.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,850  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None.  
><strong>AN:** This is for ad_astra4love who requested pyrotechnics. I know very little about proper use and execution, just the bare minimum I learned in school. So I don't claim that any of this is accurate. All info taken from Indoor Pyrotechnics.  
><strong><br>**

When Santana arrives at Rachel's for their usual Saturday together, she's dragged eagerly into the living room. Naturally, Santana's first thought is that they're _finally_going to do it somewhere besides Rachel's bedroom. She's severely disappointed when she notices the projector and a screen.

That means she's in for another PowerPoint presentation, which Santana can admit hasn't happened in a while, but she'd really like to keep it that way.

She's slightly bolstered when a cup of coffee is set in front of her.

"Okay," Rachel begins. "Now that I know that you're almost as excellent as me at pranks, I thought a presentation is in order."

Santana can only stare at her girlfriend who is currently standing next to the screen with a small remote and a laser pointer.

Wait a minute. "What do you mean, _almost_?"

Rachel just smiles and clicks her remote.

_Pulling the Ultimate Prank: A Berry/Lopez Production_, it reads.

Santana barely holds back her laughter. "You are so ridiculous."

"I certainly am not," Rachel huffs. "I just believe in planning and preparation."

"Obviously."

"Does that mean you're not up for another dual prank?"

"Of course I am," Santana replies. "I just don't understand why this has to be such a big production."

"Because," Rachel says. "While the last one we did was lovely, I thought it'd be more fulfilling as a couple to come up with one together. I have some starting ideas and I was hoping this could be a brainstorming session."

"Fine." Santana drinks some coffee and stretches out on the couch.

"Now I have several ideas that could be used as excellent starting points," Rachel begins.

"We should totally do some pyro," Santana suggests.

"Pyrotechnics are extremely dangerous, Santana," Rachel tells her. "They require careful planning and adherence to safety regulations."

"Which you would cover."

"Additionally, the optimal place to pull off such a prank would be in front of the whole school. And I'm not interrupting a glee performance for such a thing."

"Or a pep rally," Santana says. "Coach has us preparing for the next one, which is in two weeks."

"Wouldn't Coach Sylvester skin us both alive for interrupting her show?"

"Probably," Santana admits. "Unless the prank somehow appeases her."

"How?"

"I'm thinking."

"Well you can think while I continue my presentation," Rachel replies. She clicks the remote and continues.

Santana tunes her out. There's no way she can brainstorm _and_listen to Rachel's rambling presentation. She hopes there isn't going to be a quiz. Knowing Rachel, there might be.

"I've got it," Santana exclaims.

"You do?"

"We do some pyro, maybe those things that burst in the air. And then drop a banner down obscenely sucking up to the Coach. That way it'll appease her and amuse everyone else."

Rachel mulls it over for a moment. "That sounds doable."

"Of course it does."

"Excellent. We just need to figure out what exactly we want to set off and when."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Santana replies.

"The best way to figure everything out is if I know the routine," Rachel says.

Sighing, Santana stands and slowly goes through the routine while Rachel watches, taking notes and asking questions.

**…**

Once Rachel has a basic understanding of the routine Coach Sylvester has planned, they discuss the best time to attempt it.

"Maybe we should figure out what we want to do first," Santana suggests. "That way, we'll know what kind of space we need. And then we'll know when to do it."

"Excellent idea, San," Rachel says. "I think we should start with a smoke screen. Give a little build up. And the bursts of sparks."

"Yeah. We start with just one and then build up."

They spend the rest of the afternoon planning. They keep it relatively simple, but Rachel knows it's still going to be a lot of effort to get everything finished in time. She knows the biggest challenge is where to find the fireworks. Thankfully, Santana says she'll handle that part.

Rachel's job is planning, of course. She has to figure out where and how everything's going to be set up. This is one instance that her meticulous planning skills might work against her. If she and Santana are going to continue pulling pranks together, she refuses to be the one that's always planning it.

**…**

The biggest hurdle Rachel sees is detonation. She does as much research as she can, but she'd really like an expert opinion. Unfortunately, she doesn't know whom that might be. Rachel figures Artie would be the best source. She tries to find him alone to talk.

Rachel finally manages to track Artie down Tuesday and coerces him into having lunch with her in the choir room. As the glee tech guru, Rachel knows she has to at least get his opinion. She also realizes she should be more concerned about Artie figuring things out, but she's already let him in on previous capers with no negative results. Rachel feels she can trust him here.

Besides, no one will ever have solid proof that it's her behind it all. Even Santana, Noah and Brittany don't, except for the ones they participated in. They only have her word. She plans on keeping it that way.

"You sound like you know what you're doing," Artie tells her. "I'm not sure why you need me."

"Because I wanted to make sure with an expert," Rachel replies. "I find that's the safest when dealing with these sorts of things."

"I wouldn't call myself an expert," Artie says.

"You possess a great deal of knowledge," Rachel tells him. "What else would you call yourself?"

"Thanks, Rach," Artie replies. "It's cool that my nerdiness can come in handy sometimes. Do I even want to know why you're asking?"

"It's probably better that you don't."

The choir room door then swings open and Noah swaggers in.

"Noah, Artie and I are in the middle of something."

"But I need your planning skills, bro," Noah says as he slumps into the chair next to Rachel.

Rachel sighs. "Why?"

"Stacey Hudson."

"Noah, really?"

"She's the last one, Rach."

"The last one what?" Artie asks.

"She's the last upperclassman Cheerio that I haven't slept with. If she does, I'll have a perfect score."

Artie chokes on his soda. "Seriously?" he stammers.

"Everyone needs goals, Artie, my man."

"Yeah, well it'd be nice if the wealth could be spread around," Artie mutters.

**…**

Thanks to Artie, Rachel feels confident about her remote detonations. It's just a matter of proper set up and everything should work just fine. Next Friday is going to be excellent.

Now it's just a matter of waiting. Rachel thinks the anticipation might get to her before Coach Sylvester does.

**…**

"What are you so hyper about?" Puck asks Rachel as she climbs into his truck.

Instead of spending bro night by themselves, Puck and Rachel are going to Stacey Hudson's, no relation to Finn. Her parents are out of town and so of course she's having a party to celebrate.

Normally, Puck wouldn't care, but since she's the key to his perfect score, he has to try. Maybe this party will be the push she needs.

"I just enjoy large social gatherings with my peers," Rachel tells him.

"You're up to something."

"I do have specific plans for the evening, yes," Rachel replies. "Don't fret, you'll enjoy them."

"Stop being so damn cryptic."

"I'm going to be your wingman tonight."

"Ah, jeez, Berry, you're totally going to cock block me."

"I have no intention of doing such a thing," Rachel says. "I merely plan on making it easier for you to quote unquote score."

Puck groans. "Rach, I appreciate the thought. Really I do. But a lot of girls at McKinley find you…unwelcome."

Rachel huffs. "Perhaps. But this is the last hurdle or brodomhood we have yet to conquer. And I sorely dislike things being unfinished."

"Brodomhood?"

Rachel sighs. "Fine. If it doesn't work out, I will owe you one."

"Well, all right."

"Nothing that involves a threesome with Santana or myself. Or watching, taping or listening."

"I know," Puck says. "Spoilsport."

**…**

The party is well underway when they arrive. Rachel wonders if Santana and Brittany are around. She forgot to ask if they pair were attending tonight, though Rachel figures they're around somewhere. Brittany would never pass up a chance to dance.

And Rachel's secure enough in her relationship to admit that seeing Britt and Santana dancing together is hot as hell.

In the kitchen she watches Noah slam a beer before accepting another and just shakes her head. Rachel manages to find a bottle of water in the fridge and begins wandering.

She's still not exactly welcome at these sort of events, but everyone's had a few drinks and they seem to care less. Every once in a while the apathy of youth has its advantages.

Rachel sees a blonde head on the dance floor and pushes through the crowd to make sure it's Brittany.

It is and she waves at Rachel, beckoning her closer.

"Hi Rachel!"

"Hey, Britt."

"S's around somewhere," Brittany tells her. "Probably trying to out drink the hockey team."

"That sounds about right," Rachel replies. "Who's driving you guys home?"

"You are, silly," Brittany says. "S said you wouldn't mind."

"I don't. Try not to drink _too_much, though. Okay?"

"Okay."

Rachel tries to find a place to sit. If Britt's on the dance floor and Santana is drinking the jocks under the table, that means the two Cheerios will be grinding on the dance floor all too soon. She doesn't want to miss it. She wonders if that makes her strange.

The couch clears and Rachel quickly claims a spot. She knows all too soon she'll be pushing away an over amorous couple, but she can hold her own. Rachel watches the dancers, waiting for Santana to join Britt on the dance floor.

Just then Stacey Hudson flops down on the couch next to her. A football player is just behind her.

"I need a beer," the hostess yells over the music.

The boy nods and disappears back into the crowd.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this," Rachel says, leaning slightly into Stacey. "But Roger has Gonorrhea."

"How the hell do you know that, Man Hands?"

"People ignore me most of the time," Rachel tells her. "And so they say things around me that they probably shouldn't."

"He really has the clap?"

"He does indeed."

Roger returns a moment later with a beer, which Stacey accepts. He then offers her his hand, but she declines. He tries again, but she forcefully pushes him away.

"Bitch." Rachel hears him say over the music as he walks away.

**…**

Rachel and Stacey sit next to each other on the couch. Stacey drinks her beer while Rachel sips her water and watches Brittany dance.

Three and a half songs after Roger left in a huff, _another_football player approaches Stacey and offers to get her another beer. Stacey flirts and accepts and the guy goes off in search of alcohol.

"You know he got his last girlfriend pregnant, right?" Rachel asks.

"Seriously?"

Rachel nods. "He did. And then he _made_her get an abortion."

"Jesus," Stacey mutters.

"May I make a recommendation?"

"I guess," Stacey says.

"If you're simply looking for a hook up, I'd recommend Puck."

"You have to say that."

"I suppose that's true," Rachel allows. "But he's very good."

"How would you know?" Stacey sneers. "Your slutbag girlfriend tell you that?"

Rachel chooses, for the moment, to ignore the insult to Santana. "Personal experience."

"For reals?"

"Plus," Rachel continues. "Pregnancy is definitely not an issue with him anymore."

"You really had sex with Puckerman?"

"He definitely doesn't have an STD."

"I don't know."

"Trust me on this," Rachel says, beckoning her bro over.

"Hey, Stace," Noah says. "Nice party."

"How drunk are you Puckerman?"

"Enough."

"Puckerman junior still work?"

"Always."

"Good." Stacey stands and grabs his hand. "Come with me." She drags him up the stairs.

Rachel manages to receive a thumbs up from Noah before he disappears.

**…**

Rachel is not treated to the vision of Santana and Brittany grinding on the dance floor, but doesn't completely mind. She's currently driving them both back to her place in Santana's car, knowing Noah can find his own way home or to her house, which ever he prefers.

Right now, both Cheerios are ridiculously drunk and handsy. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, except it's quite distracting while driving. No matter how many times Rachel pushes Santana away, her girlfriend continues to stick her hand under Rachel's shirt and pinch her nipples.

"Santana, for the last time, stop it," Rachel says. "It's very difficult to drive while you do that."

"Then stop driving," Santana tells her. "Or maybe don't wear such easy access clothing."

"It's not her fault," Brittany adds. "You're just really hot, Rachy. We like to touch you."

"Thank you Brittany. That's very flattering. But if you two could just wait five more minutes, we'll be back at my house and up in my room."

"You're not fun," Brittany pouts.

"So I've been told," Rachel mutters.

**…**

Saturday morning, Rachel wakes up to a text message from Noah.

_Score! Thax bro. Owe u._

Rachel just shakes her head. She's glad she performed adequately as a wingman last night. It really is the last part of being a bro that she had yet to perform. And as a bonus, Noah will hopefully stop whining about it.

"Go back to sleep, babe," Santana mutters.

Rachel glances at her alarm. It _is_rather early for a Saturday; especially considering how late she fell asleep. She places her phone back on her nightstand and curls up back under the warm cocoon of covers.

"The ducks are making too much noise," Brittany murmurs.

"Shhh, Britt," Rachel says. "It's just a dream."

**…**

Monday morning, Stacey Hudson can't get her locker open. No matter how many times she and other people try. Finally, a janitor shows up with a massive ring of keys. The key works fine, but the locker still won't open. Upon further examination, the janitor finds that the door's been glued shut. It looks like glue's been applied around the entire door.

Stacey is forced to carry all her possessions. Frustrated, she goes to class, leaving the janitor to begin trying to remove the glue.

**…**

That afternoon after Cheerios practice, Stacey Hudson walks out to the parking lot and finds that all the air has been let out her car's tires. She can't tell if they're punctured or not, so she calls AAA weeping.

**…**

Tuesday during first period, Stacey receives a text message from an unknown. Opening it reveals the most offensive thing she's ever read. She quickly deletes it and puts her phone away.

Except the message keeps coming. Stacey deletes it and another one arrives. She deletes it and yet another one arrives.

Once the bell rings, it stops.

Until second period. This time it's even worse. She thought the last one made her want to throw up. This one _definitely_does.

It continues throughout the day. Every period, excluding lunch, she receives a text from Unknown. And each time it's absolutely disgusting. Thankfully, they don't necessarily get worse, but they're still revolting and fairly offensive. She can't even imagine where the words or pictures are coming from. She probably doesn't want to know.

She tries block it, but it's difficult to block when she doesn't have a number to enter. Also, it's tough trying to be discrete with her cell phone in class. Teachers are on the look out for such thing.

Stacey just ignores it. She only gets one per class as long as she doesn't delete it. She stops looking after third period, because she's almost afraid to look. She already feels like she needs to scrub her brain out with bleach. She'd turn off her phone, but is afraid of what will happen while it's off.

**…**

Wednesday there is a large crowd around Stacey Hudson's locker. Apprehensive, she pushes her way through the throngs of people. And then she sees it. In thick, bright red lettering is, _Stacey Hudson is a sinner and a whore_written on her locker.

Not wanting to deal with it, she opens her locker and pulls out the necessary books. However, instead of going to class, she heads to Coach Sylvester's office to demand she find someone to clean it off.

**…**

Rachel is eating lunch in the choir room, wanting some peace in quiet when Santana storms in.

"What the hell is going on with Stacey Hudson?" she demands.

"I wouldn't know," Rachel replies. "You and Britt are the only Cheerios that talk to me."

"Then how do you know who she is?" Santana asks.

"Noah's been ogling her for weeks now."

"So you have no idea who glued her locker shut or let the air out of her tires or wrote in permanent marker on her locker?"

"Oh _that_?" Rachel says. "I may know something about that."

"Why?"

"Because she called you a slut," Rachel replies. "To _my_face. That just isn't allowed."

"You're so fucking awesome," Santana says, pulling Rachel towards her for a kiss. When they finally break apart, they're both panting. "I'm no saint, though, Rach," Santana continues. "I appreciate the sentiment, but she's not completely off base."

"Noah is a massive man whore and no one looks down on him for it," Rachel points out. "Besides, _do not_ call _my_girlfriend a slut to my face and not expect retaliation. I don't care if you slept with every fucking idiot in this school. It cannot be tolerated."

"It's so ridiculous that you're defending my honor," Santana says. "But thanks. That might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"I'd do that and more," Rachel tells her.

**…**

Thursday morning, Stacey approaches her locker with a great deal of apprehension. She almost doesn't want to because she knows the outcome won't be good. She prays that whoever is doing this will have gotten bored by now.

Her locker is still calling her a sinner and a whore, though it has faded a bit. Carefully, she opens it.

And is then hit with a stream of cherry slushie. It continues for a full minute until Stacey's entire front is covered in sugary ice. She can't help it. She grabs her books, slams the door shut and runs to the bathroom, crying.

**…**

Thinking it was a one time thing, Stacey returns to her locker during lunch to switch out her books. She is, sadly, mistaken. Once again when she opens her locker a stream of cherry slushie hits her square in the face and continues until it is dripping everywhere. She grabs what she needs and runs to the bathroom.

Afterwards, she goes to Coach Sylvester again to complain. This time Coach tells her to see Figgins, she's sick of complaints.

Thankfully the principal has a janitor study and dismantle it.

**…**

It's Thursday night and it's finally _the_ night. Santana is staying over and the two of them are going to sneak into McKinley and set everything up. It's the most intricate thing Rachel's ever pulled off and she's slightly nervous because _nothing_can go wrong.

"Have I ever told you how hot you are in jeans?" Santana asks.

Rachel's in her usual black jeans, converse and black hoodie. She smirks. "It's come up once or twice."

"If we weren't on a schedule, I'd so be hitting that."

"You're so romantic," Rachel says, exiting her bedroom.

"It's a compliment, babe," Santana calls after her as she trails Rachel down the stairs.

"Are you sure you have everything?" Rachel asks.

"Positive. I double checked the list you gave me. Twice."

"You swear?"

"Yeah. Because I knew if I didn't, you'd rant at me for like an hour."

"Ha! Try two."

**…**

At the school, they quickly grab everything they need from Santana's trunk.

"A Radio Flyer, Rach?" Santana whispers as they try to stealth across the parking lot.

"It's easier than carrying everything," Rachel replies. "And making two trips is out of the question."

"But it's a little red wagon."

"I didn't hear _you_coming up with any suggestions."

Rachel makes quick work of the lock on the gym doors and they hustle inside.

They both have specific jobs to do and so they split up. There's plenty of things that need to be done both separately and together, but Rachel's planning is such all the two person things are to be done at the end.

They work in mostly quiet. Rachel is constantly singing; depending on the song, the volume changes. Once in a while Santana finds herself singing along, usually if it's a song they've performed in glee. It does seem to make the work go faster.

**…**

Three hours later, they're done and exhausted. Silently, except for Rachel's humming, they pick everything and put it in the wagon. Rachel double checks that all evidence of their presence has been eliminated while Santana stares at Rachel's ass in those jeans.

They exit and the door locks behind them. They quickly put things into the trunk and speed off.

Back at the Berrys', they leave everything in Santana's car. They're both too tired to deal with things.

"Thank god, Coach doesn't believe in practicing the day of," Santana says as they head up to Rachel's room. "I can sleep in a little."

Santana quickly strips and watches Rachel peel her jeans off. "You're not getting up any earlier than we have to, either."

"Fine," Rachel says, stepping out of her jeans. "But we do need to take five minutes in the morning to take those things out of your trunk."

"Why?" Santana whines.

"Because I'm already under suspicion with these pranks. And on the off chance they begin to use their brains and decide to search for evidence, I'd like it not be so easy to find."

"Why would they check _my_car?"

"Because you're my girlfriend," Rachel replies. "And Ms. Badass, you've been fairly vocal lately about wanting to pull something."

"No one's going to think it's me," Santana says. "No one in their right mind would interrupt the Coach's routine."

"It was your idea," Rachel points out.

"Yeah, I know," Santana tells her. "But I'm dating you, so who said I was in my right mind."

Santana's answer is a pillow to the face.

**…**

The next morning, Rachel can practically feel the giddiness radiating off Santana. She doesn't comment because she knows her girlfriend will just scoff at such an accusation. She's excited too; this is the biggest and most elaborate prank she's attempted. If anything goes wrong her reputation will be ruined, well the anonymous prankster's reputation will be ruined, but it's the same thing.

Rachel receives a hot and heavy kiss before Santana is dragged away by a giggling Brittany. She waves at the blonde and makes her way to her locker.

**…**

When the bell rings for the pep rally, Rachel's body is humming with anticipation. Outwardly, she knows she appears calm, almost bored. She follows everyone else into the gym and takes a seat. She tries to discretely check everything out, but it's difficult with the multitude of things hanging off the ceiling.

Sitting in the audience, Rachel tries to wait patiently as Figgins talks about school spirit and other things that sound good in theory, but no one practices.

Finally it's time for the Cheerios' performance. Everyone claps as they get into position while Rachel is ready with the remote. The music begins and Rachel gives the performance her utmost attention, waiting for just the right moment.

When everyone's crouched together near the end, Rachel hits the first button. Smoke falls and surrounds them.

The audience assumes this is part of the performance, but Rachel's fairly certain the Cheerios are confused. She figures they're trying to carry on, since Sue wouldn't have it any other way.

Next is a waterfall of sparks, falling through the smoke. Some people ooh and aw over it, but for most, the confusion is beginning.

The banner falls next. It unrolls as Saxons, or a spinning pyrotechnic effect, begins. The confusion becomes real when people read the two sided banner. It's difficult to read for a moment and then a spotlight hits it.

The truly wise worship Sue Sylvester. Convert and rejoice.

Then there are air bursts of more fireworks around the banner.

And finally the smoke clears and the lights rise. It's a moment of silence and then complete chaos.

Figgins snatches Coach Sylvester's bullhorn from her. "Everyone keep calm and stay seated!"

Everyone watches as Figgins forcefully converses with Coach Sylvester. After a few moments, he holds up the bullhorn again. "You're all dismissed early," he tells them.

A cheer erupts as everyone streams out of the gym.

**…**

"You are my hero," Puck says as he appears by Rachel's locker. "That was fucking epic."

"Keep it down, Noah," Rachel tells him. "Thank you, but it wasn't just me."

"Is someone else trying to take my place?" Puck asks. "That's not fair. Warn a guy first, Rach."

"Whoa there, bro," Rachel says. "I meant Santana."

"Oh. I guess that's okay then."

"Hey babe," Santana says appearing out of nowhere.

"Coach let you go already?" Puck asks.

"She had to investigate," Brittany says.

"What the hell was that?" Kurt asks as he strolls up.

"An unsuccessful pep rally."

"Or a _very_successful one," Puck says. "Depending on how you look at it."

"Coach is on a rampage," Kurt continues. "Whoever did it now has to face the wrath of Coach Sylvester."

"It was complimentary," Rachel points out.

"Yeah, I noticed," Kurt replies. "That was the oddest part to me, actually."

"Maybe she'll go easy on whoever because of that," Brittany says.

"Maybe," Kurt shrugs. "But I won't be holding my breath."

"Why would you hold your breath?" Brittany asks.

"It's an expression, B."

"Oh."

**…**

Since school let out early, Santana and Rachel decide to spend the afternoon together, celebrating a successful prank.

Walking towards Santana's car, they hear a scream of outrage.

"What now?" Santana grouses.

"Don't worry about it."

"You're not curious?"

"No. I am not."

"What did you do?" Santana asks.

"I merely finished off my week with a final message to that bitch," Rachel replies.

"If you're not going to tell me, I'm going to have to go check it out myself."

"Fine. She may have left her window open a crack. And I may have filled her car with grape slushie."

"Holy shit."

"I had some extra left over from yesterday's experiment," Rachel remarks causally.

"You're a diabolical bitch," Santana says, sounding impressed.

"I love you too."

**…**

Monday morning Rachel is greeted at her locker by Becky.

"Coach would like to see you."

Rachel shrugs. She knew it would happen eventually, might as well get it over with. She follows Becky to Coach Sylvester's office. Becky knocks once and then opens the door. She ushers Rachel in and closes the door behind her.

"Have a seat Berry," Coach says.

Rachel does so and waits.

"I know it was you, Berry," Coach Sylvester begins. "I was almost certain the minute it all began. But once it was finished, it was obvious. Don't bother denying it; because I won't buy it. No one else would have the audacity. I could ask you why you did it, but I already know the answer. Because you could. You saw an opportunity and seized it. That is a sentiment I can relate to."

"Coach, I-"

Coach Sylvester holds up her hand. "I don't want to hear it Berry. I'm letting it go _this_time. But the next time, you may want to flee the country, because I will come after you and it won't be pretty."

"Thank you, Coach."

"That doesn't mean you won't be doing penance, though."

**…**

"How mad was Coach?" Santana asks as Rachel exits Coach Sylvester's office.

"About what I expected," Rachel replies. "I don't have to polish all her trophies. But I do have to wipe down all the cases."

"That sucks, babe," Santana says. "And me?

"You got off easy," Rachel tells her. "Apparently, _I'm_a bad influence."

Santana chuckles. "She's probably just going to make me run a hundred laps all week during practice."

"Good," Rachel says. "You've been looking a little flabby lately."

This earns her a punch in the arm.

"Is that any way to treat your delicate girlfriend?"

"Delicate? Ha!" Santana scoffs. "If you're delicate, then I'm a virgin."

"You can't use that every time, you know?" Rachel counters. "It's not fair."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Berry. Life isn't fair. You know that."

"You're just jealous that Coach Sylvester likes me better," Rachel says.

"You wish."

"I know."

"You do not get to be Coach's favorite," Santana says. "You're not even a Cheerio."

"Rachel Berry strikes again," Rachel smirks. She kisses Santana on the cheek and skips down the hall towards her first class.

Santana can only watch with an amused grin on her face. Her girlfriend is so weird.


	13. Organized Chaos Abound

**Title:** Organized Chaos Abound  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Will, Rachel/Santana, Sue, New Directions  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Sue asks Rachel for a favor and Mercedes makes an alarming discovery. Also there are cookies.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~13,300  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> General season 1  
><strong>AN:** This is for **kiarcheo** who wanted to know if people would ever discover the tattoos.

It takes the rest of the week to clean just the cases in Coach Sylvester's office. She does it after school, but is granted afternoons off to attend glee, which is why it takes longer than Rachel anticipated. She doesn't mind though because she knows Coach Sylvester could easily turn her in. There are only two things stopping her: one, she likes to have something over Figgins and two, Rachel's… talents might somehow benefit her. Even though Rachel knows Coach Sylvester likes her, she's in no way under the delusion that the woman wouldn't throw her under the bus if it was deemed necessary. Of course, the same could be said about Rachel.

Rachel is just finishing up on Friday afternoon, when Coach Sylvester strolls in after Cheerios' practice.

"How is it that you're not done yet, Berry?"

"Because I believe in doing things thoroughly."

"Many before you have finished in half the time," Coach Sylvester tells her.

"And they didn't do one-tenth of the job I have, let me assure you."

Coach Sylvester smirks. "I can't tell which I like better Berry. Your attention to detail or your elitist attitude."

"I could say the same thing about you, Coach."

"Stop trying to brown nose and get back to work."

Rachel returns to her cleaning while Coach Sylvester begins planning something. Once she's finished, Rachel clears her throat as she stands in front of the desk.

Coach Sylvester looks up.

"I'm done. So I'm considering the punishment over and done with."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You still owe me an apology for disrupting my routine," Coach Sylvester tells her. "I've been waiting for you to do so while you clean."

"Well you're going to be waiting quite a while, Coach," Rachel replies. "Because I have no plans of apologizing."

"What?"

"For one thing, it was a pep rally," Rachel begins. "Two, it was fun and flashy. Three, it praised _you_. Four, I did nothing wrong and therefore have nothing to apologize for."

"Fine," Coach Sylvester allows. "You're off the hook. For now."

"By Coach." Rachel dashes out of the office before Coach changes her mind.

**…**

Monday morning, Rachel experiences déjà vu when she's approached by Becky, who tells her Coach Sylvester wants to see her. Rachel nods and follows Becky back to the office. She enters and waits for Coach Sylvester to speak.

"It's my birthday next week and I'd like to give myself a special gift since it's a milestone," Coach Sylvester begins. "And I'm going to need your assistance."

"May I be so bold to ask how old you'll be, Coach?"

"Thirty."

"Right. Yes, of course," Rachel says wryly. "What do you require from me?"

"As you're well aware, I harbor very strong feelings of hatred for your glee club advisor, one William Schuester."

Rachel nods.

"I thought it might be fun to pull a few pranks on him. I was hoping you could come up with some ideas."

"Oh."

"What?"

"It's just, I'm not sure I can," Rachel says. "I mean, Mr. Schue is the glee club advisor, as you said."

"Please don't tell me you feel any sort of loyalty towards that curly haired moron," Coach Sylvester says. "Because he certainly doesn't feel that way about you."

"It's not that," Rachel replies. "Exactly. Because I don't. However, I feel I should. Just because-"

"Stop right there, Berry," Coach Sylvester interrupts. "Please don't ruin my opinion of you by defending such a useless man."

"I wasn't going to," Rachel protests. "I was going to instead speak about my sense of loyalty and commitment, because when Rachel Berry pledges to do something, she does it."

Coach Sylvester nods, but doesn't speak. The room becomes silent as Rachel waits for Coach Sylvester to speak.

After about three minutes of this, Rachel breaks down. "Fine. I'm willing to listen to your request."

"What I'd like from you is a list of pranks that I can pull on William and if necessary, instructions. I was hoping for a dozen or so. It'll be a birthday week type thing."

"I'm still not sure I can do that to Mr. Schue."

"Playing hard ball, I see," Sue says. "Fine. This is my _only_ offer. You help me with this and I will owe you. However, you can't tell _any_one about that part of the deal, not even S."

Rachel considers it. "I will with conditions."

"Normally I don't accept such things," Coach Sylvester says. "But I'm willing to listen."

"I'll give you a list next Monday, but it will contain nothing too painful or too humiliating; mostly things will just be annoying, perhaps juvenile. In exchange for allowing me that, I'll set up the first one. And as a birthday gift, I'll set up the last one, but both will remain my secret."

Coach Sylvester mulls it over for only a moment before she holds out her hand. "Deal."

"Deal," Rachel says, shaking Coach Sylvester's hand. "Is there anything else, Coach?"

"We're done here."

Rachel nods, stands and leaves.

**…**

This time it's Mercedes who spots it. It's a typical Thursday and Mercedes is sure the week is going to end on its usual note when she sees it. She has third period gym just as Rachel does. They've changed in the locker rooms a thousand times previously, but today, Mercedes notices something she hadn't before. It's just a quick glance as Rachel dresses, but Mercedes is pretty sure Rachel has a tattoo; a tattoo that says, **Property of Santana Lopez**.

Mercedes just barely holds back commenting, but manages to hold her tongue. She actually feels her body hum with excitement though.

When the bell rings, Mercedes is immediately on the phone to Kurt, except he's already gossiping with Tina, so she gets put on hold. By the time he picks back up, she's walking up behind him. So she snaps her phone closed and taps him on the shoulder. He jumps, but turns around at her giggle.

The look on his face when she tells him is worth being put on hold and her annoyance is quickly forgotten. He whips his phone back out to call Tina, but Mercedes notices the time. They have just enough to get to class; it'll have to wait until lunch.

**…**

Rachel hasn't been in the lunch room this week; she's working on something that no one wants to question, afraid of the ensuing rant that will most likely follow. Instead they let her be and defer to Santana or Puck on all Rachel related issues.

**…**

"Just when I think I've seen it all, Rachel Berry manages to surprise me," Kurt announces as he and Mercedes sit down at lunch.

"Any louder and she'll hear you," Artie points out, looking around.

"She's still working on her latest crazy project," Mercedes tells him.

"Oh god," Kurt moans. "Do you think it's glee related?"

""We can only hope not," Mercedes answers.

"So what did Rachel do to surprise you this time?" Tina asks.

"She has a tattoo."

"So?" Tina questions.

"Mercedes saw it in gym," Kurt continues. "I can't believe she would get one."

"What's the big deal?" Artie asks.

"Is it a gold star?" Tina asks.

"That would be unsurprising," Artie comments.

"Not even close," Kurt tells them.

"It says, Property of Santana Lopez," Mercedes says.

"Huh," Artie says. "Didn't see that coming."

"We have to do something," Kurt says.

"We do?" Tina asks. "Why?"

"Because we do," Mercedes replies.

"I don't know," Tina says. "Hasn't Rachel made it clear she doesn't _want_ our help?"

"That's why we need to have an intervention, Kurt tells her. "She's so far gone that drastic measures have to be taken."

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Tina replies.

"T," Mercedes starts. "I think you're approaching this the wrong way."

"Funny, because that's what I'd say about you guys," Tina replies.

"Yes, Ms. Rachel Berry has shunned our advice in the past, but now we have an explanation."

"Oh?

"She's obviously suffering from a dangerous addiction," Kurt says.

"Obviously," Artie comments, wryly.

"We're serious," Mercedes insists. "Santana is like Meth. She's making Rachel do all sorts of things she would never do _not_ under the influence."

"You mean love?" Tina asks.

Kurt looks scandalized. "You think they love each other?"

"You don't?"

"It's incomprehensible to me," Kurt replies.

Tina just stares at him.

"I can't imagine they'd be together if they weren't," Artie says.

"It's just incomprehensible to me," Kurt repeats.

**…**

Santana and Brittany arrive to glee early. Rachel is already there warming up, but except for a wave of acknowledgement when they first enter, Santana and Rachel ignore each other. Santana sits in the back row, feigning disinterest as Brittany plays with her hair.

Tina enters next and gives Santana a strange look. A quietly gossiping Kurt and Mercedes are next and they both shoot her _very_ dirty looks before waving a bit too enthusiastically at Rachel who, looking surprised, waves back.

Artie and Finn are next; then Puck, Mike and Quinn. No one else seems to be pissed at her, so Santana knows that whatever she did to piss off Kurt and Mercedes, and maybe Tina, is something ridiculously blown out of proportion.

Santana doesn't understand how Kurt and Mercedes can be so protective of Rachel while they _still_ spend so much time putting her down. She tried talking to Rachel about it once, but it was kind of a dead end.

"My relationship with Kurt and Mercedes is mercurial," Rachel said. "It's a mixture of loathing and respect that usually comes across as disgust on their end while I look at them with ambivalence at worst and reluctant admiration at best."

And that was the end of that discussion.

Santana sort of hates that she can protect Rachel from slushies and dumpsters, but not from their own fellow glee members. The only bright spot is that it seems that their relationship has given Rachel more of a spine and so she seems to not care about what the others think of her. She always gave off that air, but Santana knows now it's not acting like it's been previous years.

It's one of the few things that stop her from making Kurt and Mercedes' lives miserable.

**…**

"So what did you do?" Brittany asks Santana.

They're leaning against Santana's car waiting for Rachel to finish talking to Mr. Schue.

"What do you mean?"

"Kurt and Mercedes seem really pissed at you."

Santana shakes her head. "I have no idea. You know how those two are."

"Ah, so it's a perceived failing on your part," Brittany nods. "That makes sense. Rachel totally would have said something."

"She would indeed," Rachel says, walking up to them. "What are we talking about?"

"Kurt and Mercedes."

"Why?"

"Santana's done something to make them mad," Brittany explains.

"Of course she did," Rachel replies. "I am but an innocent, delicate flower that Santana is constantly trying to ruin."

Santana snorts. "Just get in the damn car, Berry."

"You're just mad that people want to protect me from big bad Santana," Rachel says, climbing into the car.

"It's too bad they have it backwards," Brittany adds from the back seat.

"I told you I'm an exceptional actress," Rachel says.

**…**

Rachel doesn't tell anyone what Coach Sylvester asked of her. She's fairly certain Coach wouldn't mind if she told Santana or Brittany, but she just can't. She's not entirely sure why. She knows she shouldn't have such _loyalty_ towards someone who barely tolerates her, especially now when she has actual people who care about her.

On the other hand, it could instead be interpreted as loyalty towards glee; which _everyone_ would understand, even Coach Sylvester.

Still, she decides not to mention it to anyone else. She has no problem allowing Coach Sylvester to claim all credit for the pranks she's pulling on Mr. Schue next week.

**…**

"So you're really not going to tell me what we're picking up?"

"Unfortunately no," Rachel replies. "It'll ruin the surprise."

"So? It's _my_ truck you're using," Puck points out. "This is kinda a shitty bro night."

"I got you beer," Rachel says. "Good beer."

"Yeah, I guess you did."

They stop in front of an old, abandoned looking warehouse. Rachel pulls out her cell and sends a text. A few minutes later, a garage door opens and a large box on a cart exits.

Rachel jumps out of the truck and greets the two guys maneuvering the cart. Puck watches as they load it into the bed of his truck, hug Rachel and then disappear back into the spooky looking warehouse.

"Who were those guys?" Puck asks after Rachel climbs back in.

"Theater acquaintances," Rachel tells him. "They know where to find odds and ends."

"Are you helping Santana plan world domination?" Puck asks. It's the only logical explanation be can come up with.

"Of course not."

"Too bad," Puck says as he speeds down the road. "I was totally going to call dibs on army general."

"Santana's got that all sown up, trust me," Rachel replies. "You'd definitely be her second in command though."

**…**

Monday morning Sue finds a crisp white piece of paper on her desk.

_The first one has already started. Mr. Schue's desk had a run in with some glue. I will bring the list when I arrive._

Sue smiles. She knew she could count on Berry. This is going to be an excellent birthday week.

**…**

Will Schuester isn't having a good day. First, he woke up late and spent the morning frenzied trying to get to school on time. Because of this, he cuts himself shaving and slams his shoulder into the frame of his front door. When he arrives at McKinley, he gets some coffee and settles at his desk.

He tries to open his drawer and check his lesson plan for the day, except it seems to be stuck. He tries again, nothing. Frustrated, he yanks the drawer as hard as he's able, but only succeeds in straining his arm.

He's pretty sure he has a screwdriver in another drawer. He tries to open the bottom drawer with no success. He tries again. Nothing. Will then tries to open every single drawer. None of them open.

Getting out of his chair, he examines the drawer. It looks like someone glued his drawers shut.

"Sue," Will growls. He jumps up and rushes off to find her.

When he reaches her office, he barges in without knocking.

"William," Sue says looking up from some paperwork. "I see common courtesy isn't something you're familiar with."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Will exclaims.

"I could ask the same of you," Sue replies.

"Are you ten years old?"

"What exactly is this about William?" Sue asks.

"Someone glued shut all the drawers in my desk," Will tells her.

Sue smirks. "It couldn't have happened to a more deserving person," Sue replies. "But it wasn't me."

"It has to be you," Will says.

"Why?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Maybe you have more enemies than you imagined," Sue mocks

"Unlike you, I don't force my students' behavior with fear and paranoia, Sue."

"And yet someone glued your drawers shut," Sue says. "What conclusions do you draw from that?"

"If it wasn't you, then you put someone up to it. One of your Cheerios."

"Hardly. I wouldn't waste their time or barely there talents on you," Sue tells him. "You're really reaching, William."

"This isn't over, Sue." He tries to look menacing and stomps out.

"Bye William," Sue calls after him.

**…**

Rachel knocks on Coach Sylvester's door and waits for permission to enter. When she receives permission, she enters and places another crisp white piece of paper on the desk along with a paper bag.

Coach Sylvester grabs the list. "What's this for?" she asks, pointing to the bag.

"Things you'll need to complete the list," Rachel replies.

Coach Sylvester looks through the bag a moment before returning to the list.

Rachel waits patiently for Coach Sylvester to finish reading the list. When she looks up, Rachel speaks.

"I left my pranks off. I'll execute the other one Friday afternoon."

"These are incredibly juvenile," Coach Sylvester comments.

"Well if your goal is to irritate Mr. Schue, then juvenile seems like the way to go."

"True," Coach Sylvester agrees. "He was quite irate earlier about his desk."

"It would be rather aggravating," Rachel says.

"Well this list is quite sufficient," Coach Sylvester tells her. "I have no problem saying I owe you."

"I'm pleased you think so, Coach," Rachel replies. "Am I dismissed?"

Coach Sylvester nods. "You are."

Rachel leaves as Coach Sylvester sits at her desk, going over the list again, a devious smile spreading across her face.

**…**

"What are you smiling about?" Santana asks Rachel when she sidles up between her and Brittany.

"No particular reason."

"I bet."

"Did Coach give you a compliment?" Brittany asks.

Rachel briefly wonders how Brittany even knew where she just came from. "She did indeed," Rachel nods.

"She did not," Santana says.

"I told you she likes me better than you," Rachel smirks.

"I hate it when you're a braggart," Santana mutters.

"Like you don't do it too."

"Does this mean Coach is in a good mood today?" Brittany asks.

"Possibly the whole week," Rachel replies.

"Cool."

**…**

Will runs to the bathroom for the third time and it's not even lunch yet. He tries to remember what he's eaten in the last twenty-four hours, but nothing out of the ordinary springs to mind. Nothing spoiled or expired either; he's pretty sure. He's drank a lot of coffee lately, but he doesn't think that matters. It probably wouldn't case such an extreme action.

Washing his hands, Will wonders if he's getting sick, maybe some sort of stomach virus.

Back in his classroom, he's glad it's his free period. He sinks into his chair with a sigh.

He happens to glance in his trash can and notices what's on top. He picks up an empty plastic bottle. **Ex-Lax**. Laxatives. Sue.

Well at least he's not getting a stomach virus.

**…**

Santana and Brittany are sitting at the Cheerios table during lunch, but not really engaging. Not that Santana usually does; the other girls on the squad aren't really worth her time.

"So what do you think Coach wants with Rach?" Brittany asks Santana.

"I have no idea, Britt. Maybe help planning some scheme. Or get dirt on Mr. Schue."

"Wouldn't she just ask us or Quinn?"

"Guess it depends on what kind of dirt she wants."

"Would Rachel tell Coach anything?"

"I don't know, B," Santana replies. "She should though. He does not have her back."

"But now she has me and you and Puck to help her," Brittany points out.

"Yeah. That's true."

"Awww, you feel bad about being mean to Rachel before," Brittany coos. "You're just a big softie."

"Shhh. I am not."

"Rachel made you into a big ole teddy bear."

"Britt, I love you," Santana says. "But I will also hurt you if you continue this line of thought."

"I can't wait to tell Rachel that you're a big mushball."

"Britt," Santana hisses.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else," Brittany says. "They probably wouldn't think it's cute like I do."

"I'd be ripped to shreds."

"Awww, that would make me sad."

"And we can't have that, can we?" Santana muses, wryly.

**…**

Despite the banal tone of the lunch conversation, Rachel feels like she's missing something. Artie seems determined to not look at her while Tina is giving her sympathetic, but supportive looks. Meanwhile, Kurt and Mercedes are constantly giving her looks so full of pity, she feels like she's drowning in it.

Knowing those two, it could be anything. Rachel supposes it's related to whatever set them off against Santana last week. She'd been able to brush it aside, because while their reactions were mildly irritating, they were easily ignorable. However, Rachel finds herself getting exasperated and fighting to keep her mouth shut.

Thankfully lunch ends before her fuse does and Rachel escapes as quickly as she can from Kurt and Mercedes' stares.

**…**

It's been a long day of repetitive bathroom visits. Will's pretty sure his ass has never been so sore. Even if he didn't have to give a lot of effort, each time was just more and more uncomfortable. If he wasn't so tired, he'd walk home because the thought of sitting any more makes him cringe. As he makes his way to his car, he vows to follow every single traffic law for the rest of his life starting tomorrow to make up for the immense speed he's going to employ to get home as quickly as possible.

And then he arrives in front of his car.

His jaw actually drops at the sight of his car covered in eggs. He steps closer because they look a bit odd. Examining one, he realizes they're deviled eggs. Someone actually threw deviled eggs at his car.

Will knows without a doubt it was Sue, but he can't comprehend the ridiculous audacity of throwing deviled eggs rather than regular old raw eggs.

He pulls out his ice scraper, grateful he didn't take it out when winter ended and begins brushing the egg off as best he can. There's still egg residue, but it's passable.

He tosses the scrapper in a nearby dumpster and drives to the nearest car wash. He gets a deluxe wash and drives home.

**…**

"So you're really not going to tell me what Coach wanted with you?" Santana asks Rachel later.

They're both studying on Rachel's bed. Brittany had begged off doing homework with them, so it's just the two of them.

"I'm unable to."

"Coach swore you to secrecy?" Santana questions. "That says a lot."

"No she didn't," Rachel answers. "It's just I feel it's better if no one else knows. Safer. You can't be questioned about what you don't have information about."

"Whoa," Santana says. "Now you're scaring me a bit. Coach doesn't want you to help her kill someone does she?"

"Don't be ridiculous, San," Rachel replies. "I would never agree to assist with something like that."

"How else am I supposed to interrupt what you just said?"

"I simply meant that the less people that know the better," Rachel tells her. "Besides, I'm not entirely proud of what I was asked to do."

"Then why do it?"

"You'd tell Coach Sylvester no? You must share your technique with me."

"Right. Good point. Never mind."

**…**

Will cannot figure out what is so funny about Spanish. Every time he goes to the board to write something, he hears snickers and giggles. He tries whipping around quickly to catch someone doing anything inappropriate, but he never does.

It's happened every period so far and he's becoming paranoid. Maybe Sue started an insanely embarrassing rumor about him, like he has three nipples. It's the only explanation he can come up with because otherwise the kids are just laughing at him. Which he knows happens, but there's usually a source.

It isn't until fourth period, that he finds out.

It keeps happening all through class, though he's almost used to it by now. When the bell rings, everyone laughs as he gives them their homework.

Finn stays behind and stands at his desk.

"Hey Finn, what's up?"

"Uh, Mr. Schue, I hate to be the one to tell you," Finn begins. "But, uh, can you turn around a minute?"

Wary, Will does. Finn pulls something off his back and it all clicks in place. Turning around, Finn hands him a sheet of notebook paper that reads, **I am a douchebag** in bold, black letters.

"Thanks, Finn."

"No prob, Mr. Schue."

Will crumples the paper as Finn leaves the classroom. He hurls it into the garbage so hard, it bounces out. He doesn't bother picking it up.

"Sue," he growls.

**…**

The glee table is nearly full today. Kurt is holding court over the table as everyone, minus Puck and oddly Rachel, try to figure out why Mr. Schue had a sign taped to his back all morning.

"Maybe it's the Prankster," Santana suggests, grinning.

"Targeting just one person?" Mercedes asks. "Doubtful."

"It's totally Coach Sylvester," Quinn offers. "Who else hates Mr. Schue enough?"

"Makes sense to me," Finn adds.

"Seems kinda juvenile, though, don't you think?" Kurt questions. "I would think Coach Sylvester could come up with something more complicated and ridiculous."

"Oh she definitely can," Santana says.

"Maybe she was just bored," Brittany suggests.

"So what?" Artie starts. "She was working out a Cheerios' routine this morning and decided to put a sign on Mr. Schue's back?"

"Probably," Brittany chirps.

"_I_ wouldn't be surprised if she did," Quinn adds.

"It certainly wouldn't be the _strangest_ thing she's done," Tina offers.

"That's a long list, though," Mike says. "Coach Sylvester is scary crazy."

Everyone nods.

**…**

Will has been eating lunch by himself at his desk lately. He finds this slightly less stressful, though lonely.

Today he is quietly chewing his macaroni salad when a horrendous smell permeates his senses. He sniffs the air a few times to make sure and scrunches his nose. His office now reeks like rotten eggs. He stands and begins looking for the source. Because of what happened earlier, he checks his desk first, but doesn't find a carton of eggs like he expected. He wouldn't put it past Sue to leave a carton of eggs and then glue his desk shut.

Finding nothing in the desk, he then begins to investigate the room. Finally in the back corner, behind the fake plant he finds a stink bomb.

On any other day, he would call it the most juvenile thing he's ever seen, but the sign taped to his back earlier still wins.

He wonders if a stunt like this means Sue is running out of ideas or if she enjoys acting like an immature thirteen year old. With Sue, it's hard to say. Using his lunch bag, he wraps up the stink bomb and takes it outside to the nearest dumpster.

**Title:** Organized Chaos Abound - part two  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Will, Rachel/Santana, Sue, New Directions  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Sue asks Rachel for a favor and Mercedes makes an alarming discovery. Also there are cookies.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~13,300  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> General season 1  
><strong>AN:** Directly follows Playing with Fire. This is for **kiarcheo** who wanted to know if people would ever discover the tattoos. Sorry it took so long. RL's been kind of crazy.  
><strong>2nd AN:** Unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Once the final bell has rung, Rachel is walking down the hall on her way to locker, when an arm reaches out and yanks her into the choir room.

"Hey!" Rachel looking peeved, turns and finds herself facing Kurt, Mercedes and for some reason, Brittany. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"We need to have a Santana-vention," Kurt says.

"That's a Santana intervention," Mercedes adds.

"Guys, I appreciate your concern, but it is highly unnecessary," Rachel replies.

"Of course you would say that," Kurt tells her. "She's brain washed you."

"You are being ridiculous," Rachel says. "And Brittany, why are you here? I thought you were okay with Santana and I dating."

"I am," Brittany replies. "But Mercedes said there'd be cupcakes."

"How were they?"

"It seems I was misled," Brittany says.

"That's too bad," Rachel replies. "A cupcake would be lovely right now."

"I saw it, Rachel," Mercedes interrupts.

"Saw what?"

"Your tattoo."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel replies.

"That won't work this time," Kurt tells her.

"What won't work?"

"Your evasions," Mercedes explains. "I _know_ what I saw."

"Fine, what do you _think_ you saw, Mercedes?"

"You have a tattoo that says, Property of Santana Lopez."

"Where?" Rachel asks.

"Right there," Mercedes says, pointing to Rachel's left hip. "Clear as day in thick bold letters."

"When would have you seen my left hip, Mercedes?"

"Uh, we have gym together, remember?"

"Why were you watching me get undressed?"

"Oh don't even, girl," Mercedes snaps.

"What I do or don't have tattooed on my body is none of your business," Rachel tells them.

"It is if it's a sign of a problem," Kurt says.

"A problem?"

"Obviously Santana is asserting too much control over you," Mercedes says.

Rachel scoffs.

"You don't see it because you're too far gone," Kurt adds.

"You guys are nuts," Brittany says from the back row.

The three of them turn to face her.

"Santana didn't make Rachel do anything," she continues. "They love each other."

"What is it with you people and love?" Kurt asks.

"You people?"

"T said something similar," Mercedes explains.

"And you dismissed her?" Rachel questions.

"Of course," Mercedes answers. "Santana saves her from _one_ slushie facial and suddenly she's her biggest supporter after you two."

"And so of course Artie has to agree with her," Kurt adds.

Rachel briefly wonders if this is because the pair have shared in her mayhem.

"I'm not sure what you expect from me," Rachel says. "It's not like the tattoo is going away and I'm certainly not going to end my relationship with Santana because you two dictate."

"We just want you to consider the situation you're in," Kurt says. "_Really_ consider it."

"We're worried about you," Mercedes asks. "If she can get you to do _that_, then what other dark paths will she drag you down?"

"What do you guys have against Santana?" Rachel asks.

"Girl's a straight up bitch," Mercedes explains. "She helped make our lives miserable. How can you forgive her so easily?"

"People can't change?"

"Of course they can," Mercedes replies. "But she hasn't. Yeah, the slushies stopped, but that was for you. She's still cruel and brutal."

"First off, she's mellowed a bit," Rachel says. "Second, she could have just made me off limits and left the rest of you to still fend for yourselves. But she didn't."

"How benevolent of her," Kurt grumbles.

"It was," Brittany says. "Cause she didn't do it just for Rachel, she did it for all you guys."

"You know what that means?"

"Of course," Brittany replies. "It means San did it to be nice."

Kurt and Mercedes just stare at each other in shock for a moment before turning back to Rachel.

"How'd you even get that?" Kurt asks. "You're not old enough and I doubt your gay dads gave consent for _that_."

"Maybe I did it myself," Rachel says. "You can learn anything on YouTube™."

"Please tell me you're being sarcastic," Mercedes begs.

"Of course she is, silly," Brittany says. "You can't give yourself a tattoo. I did it."

"What?" Mercedes and Kurt exclaim together.

"I think it turned out good," Brittany continues.

Neither Kurt or Mercedes know who to gape at. Their heads seem to almost swivel as they look from Rachel to Brittany and then back again. It's like they're watching a tennis match.

Rachel manages not to laugh, but can't stop the grin from spreading across her face.

Before anyone can respond, the door swings open and Finn enters followed by Puck. Both stop short seeing the scene in front of them. Rachel is facing off with Kurt and Mercedes while Brittany lounges in the back row.

"Hey guys," Finn greets, nervously.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Puck adds.

"You didn't," Rachel says, quickly.

"Uh huh, whatever you say, Bro."

"Maybe we should ask Puck," Mercedes suggests.

"No way, keep me out of it," Puck protests. "Whatever crazy glee thing you're arguing about, I don't care and I don't have an opinion about."

"Noah, I am extremely displeased with you," Rachel says. "An attitude like that won't help us win anything."

"Calm yourself, Berry," Puck replies. "I just don't want to get in the middle of your fight, is all."

"I don't require your assistance anyway."

"Never thought you did," Puck assures her.

"Doesn't anyone want _my_ opinion?" Finn asks.

"It's not glee related," Rachel tells him.

"Oh."

"Kurt and Mercedes don't think Santana's benevolent," Brittany explains.

"Um… okay," Finn mutters.

"My relationship is no one's concern," Rachel says. "So let's just drop it and move on, please."

"Oooh, what did Santana do now?" Puck asks. "I hope it's something juicy."

"It's _not_," Rachel replies. "And we're dropping it."

"You're a real stick in the mud," Puck tells her.

"Stick in the mud, dude?" Finn points out.

"Shut up," Puck says. "At least I know what benevolent means."

"So do I," Finn tries.

"Well, then tell us."

Everyone looks at Finn, who just stares at his feet. "Fine, I don't know what it means. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Kurt drawls. "Can we please return to the topic at hand?"

"I'm not sure how much clearer, I could be, _Kurt_," Rachel says. "Let it go."

Kurt pulls Rachel into a chair and sits as well. "Look Rachel, I know you and I have… had our differences, but this really is being said out of concern, only. I swear. Mercedes and I just want to help."

"Rachel can take care of herself," Brittany says.

"Against slushie attacks and someone going sharp, maybe," Mercedes replies. "But matters of the heart, we're not so sure about. Her choices in that department haven't been the best."

"People can't grow?" Brittany questions.

"It just seems like she's not."

"People aren't just what others see, Kurt," Brittany continues. "_You_ should understand that."

"We're just worried Rachel's being pushed towards something she doesn't want. And if she could just explain why she has that… thing on her, we'd relax."

"She doesn't have to," Brittany replies. "It's her body and she doesn't owe anyone an explanation. You, me, even Santana."

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Finn interrupts.

"Nothing, Hudson," Puck says. "They're talking about _nothing_. Right, _guys_?"

Kurt and Mercedes grumble.

"I appreciate your concern, I do," Rachel says. "But I promise you, there's nothing to worry about."

Santana and Quinn walk into the choir room, followed by Tina, Artie and Mike.

Sensing the tension in the air, Santana goes to Rachel, while Quinn sits, intending to enjoy the show.

"Really, guys?" Tina asks Kurt and Mercedes. "I thought you were going to let this go."

"We're concerned," Mercedes says.

"Would someone _please_ tell me what's going on?" Finn tries. "Is Rachel in trouble?"

"Don't be ridiculous Finn, why would I be in trouble?"

"You okay, babe?" Santana whispers.

"Just let me handle this." Rachel does take Santana's hand in hers, though. "And like Brittany said, this is no one's business, but mine."

"Well now that we have the instigator here, maybe we can get some answers," Kurt says.

"What the hell are you talking about, Hummel?" Santana snaps.

"You made Rachel brand herself," Kurt answers. "How possessive are you?"

"What are you spying on us?"

"Maybe Rachel told us," Mercedes says.

"Please, Rachel wouldn't tell you two _any_thing about our relationship, much less something so personal. Try again."

"Gym," Rachel whispers.

"Oh. So what's the problem?"

"Apparently your feminine wiles are so great, I can't help but do _what_ever you asks of me," Rachel tells Santana.

"Ha! If only."

This earns Santana a smack in the stomach.

"I'm confused, what's going on?" Mike whispers to Puck.

"Just watch, man. I'll explain later."

"You know what? Fine," Rachel exclaims. "Since you seem so set on settling this now, let's just tell everyone. Okay? Guys, I have a tattoo. A tattoo that Kurt and Mercedes don't approve of because it's my girlfriend's name. And no one forced me or made me; it was _my_ choice. You have until glee starts to voice your opinion and then the subject will be off limits."

"You got Berry to permanently put _your_ name on her skin?" Quinn asks. "Score Lopez. Color me impressed."

"Save it, Fabray," Santana growls. "I don't want to hear it."

"_That's_ what you're arguing about?" Finn asks Kurt.

"You understand why we're concerned, now?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," Mike says.

Finn just stares at Rachel in shock.

"Exactly," Artie agrees.

"It's _not_ a big deal is the point, I think," Tina adds.

"Oh. Okay."

"I thought you said tattoos would hinder your future career," Finn says to Rachel.

She nods. "I did."

"But you have one now," Finn says. "And it's Santana's name? First you and her… and then you get her name tattooed on your body?"

"Yes. And?"

"I need to sit down."

"You already are, dude," Puck tells him.

"Oh. Good then."

"You people are making too big of deal out of this," Santana says.

"Yeah," Brittany adds.

"It's just a damn tattoo," Santana continues. "Tons of people have them. In fact-"

"No one else has anything else to say?" Rachel interrupts.

Quinn raises her hand.

"Yes?"

"Careful Fabray," Santana growls.

"Can we see it? Is it surrounded by gold stars or something else Berry-like?"

"The answer to all your questions is no."

"Why? Is it somewhere scandalous? Rachel Berry, I didn't think you had it in you," Quinn smirks.

"If I wanted people to see it, it would be someplace visible," Rachel answers. "Since it is not, you can draw your own conclusions."

"You'd think dating the school bicycle would take that stick out of your ass," Quinn grumbles.

Santana lunges at Quinn, only to held back by Rachel's hand on her shoulder.

"Let me."

Rachel slowly walks over to where Quinn is sitting next to Brittany, who looks fairly pissed for Brittany. Rachel knows she wouldn't do anything though because Quinn is head Cheerio.

"You don't get to say things like that to _my_ girlfriend ever again. Do you understand?" Rachel says quietly.

Quinn scoffs. "You don't scare me, Berry. Knowing how to throw knives doesn't make you scary. You're still the same pathetic loser you've always been, now you're just exposing yourself to a bunch of STDS."

"You seemed pretty scared when you were target, Quinn," Rachel replies. "However, you are correct. My knife throwing abilities aren't a reason to be afraid of me. So let me explain why you _should_ be. In case you haven't noticed, I'm dating a Cheerio, a very popular one. Who got the _entire_ school to stop throwing slushies. Something the all powerful Quinn Fabray never managed. What's to stop her and I from taking your popularity from you? Between her status and my strategizing skills, we could usurp you before the week is up."

"Delusions of grandeur," Quinn sneers.

"Don't scoff at me, Fabray. You and I _both_ know it's true."

"Whatever, Berry."

"Fine," Rachel says. "How about this? You ever say something like that to Santana again and I'll do this…"

Rachel grabs Quinn's wrist and twists it so pressed against the blonde's back. She then takes Quinn to the ground so the Cheerio is pressed face first into the floor. Everyone watches as Quinn flairs about trying to escape.

"And this is the nicest way to take you out," Rachel whispers in her ear. "Imagine what I could do if I actually wanted to hurt you. Remember I'm in just as excellent shape as you and I _seem_ to possess skills you do not. Do _not_ test me."

Rachel stands and lets Quinn do so as well.

"And if that's enough motivation," Rachel whispers. "I'll just go to Coach Sylvester who loves me."

"Ha!"

"If you don't believe, just ask her."

Rachel steps away from Quinn to find the others, plus Mr. Schue staring at her.

"Is it time for glee already?" Rachel asks, trying to look innocent.

"It is," Mr. Schuester nods, looking confused.

"Okay." Rachel grabs Santana's hand and pushes her into the seat next to Brittany, before sitting as well.

"Why didn't you mention mine?" Santana whispers. "Wouldn't them knowing make it easier on you?"

Rachel shrugs. "Maybe, but then you'd never hear the end of it."

The look of adoration on Santana's face is actually startling to Rachel. She wonders if it's because she stood up to Quinn or because she's trying to protect Santana's rep. Rachel can admit both had selfish motivations. Santana's harsh reputation helps her as well and Rachel's been wanting to tell Quinn off for years. Though neither is what truly prompted the defending; just as Santana stopped the slushies, Rachel wants to stop Quinn's cruelty. She knows it's one of the few things that _really_ bother Santana.

"You are so getting laid later," Santana murmurs.

"You say that like it wasn't true earlier," Rachel whispers back.

"Yeah, but now I'll do _what_ever you want."

"Really? _What_ever?"

"Oh yeah."

**…**

Today when Will goes to his car, he finds the windshield splattered with mud. As far as pranks go, it seems pretty mild, but especially for Sue. He wonders if this is a sign that it's near the end. If this is the best she could come up with, then she's definitely running low on ideas.

Sighing, he turns on his wipers while pushing the fluid button. Suddenly his windshield is dark red. He actually flinches because it looks like blood. He hits the button again and it's looks exactly like blood.

He gets out and looks at his windshield. It looks real. He hesitantly runs a finger through it. He'll admit to not having a lot of experience with large quantities of blood, so he can't say with certainty either way if it's real or not. Though if it is, he doesn't even want to think about where she got so much.

In his trunk is an old towel which he uses to clean the windshield as best he can. Will then turns off the engine and lifts the hood. Finding the wiper fluid reservoir, he sees it's completely full of a red liquid.

Back inside, Will finds a bucket and fills it with water. Back in the parking lot, he turns his car back on and sits, pushing the wiper fluid button. The blood continues to pour out until his windshield looks like that scene from _Carrie_. He keeps doing it until it seems to run out. He jumps out and checks the reservoir again and finds it empty. He slams the hood and uses the bucket of water to clean off all the red. It's not enough and he's forced to go back inside for more water.

Thankfully, the second bucket seems to do the trick. Nonetheless, he goes to the gas station and goes through a deluxe car wash again. He wants to make sure he gets every drop off.

After his second car wash of the week, he heads home.

**…**

Hanging out at Kurt's, Mercedes and Kurt are still a bit freaked by Rachel's reaction earlier. Not so much to them, they both expected as much, but her response to Quinn was quite forceful. Though one could argue Quinn brought it on herself; she does seem to like to goad Rachel.

"Some people bungee jump or hang glide," Mercedes says. "Quinn likes to poke a bear with a stick, but still be around to witness the possible carnage."

"Are you really referring to _Rachel Berry_ as a bear?"

"It's an okay metaphor," Mercedes argues. "Besides, I don't hear anything better from you."

"Fine," Kurt says. "So now what?"

"I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to drop it," Mercedes answers. "Just because she didn't take us down like she did Quinn, doesn't mean she won't."

"True," Kurt agrees. "She could even take us out without being anywhere near us. She'd just throw a knife from across the street and all my tires would be flat."

"Exactly.

"What about attempting to diminish the insane amount of power Santana has over Rachel?" Kurt asks.

"Phsaw, that girl can take care of herself," Mercedes replies. "She might not realize Santana's evil scheme now, but when she does, Lopez is _so_ going down. It'll be ridiculously hardcore and insane, just like Rachel."

**…**

It's the monthly staff meeting and Will's just waiting for Sue to do or say _some_thing. He's always prepared for something, but this week she's been particularly relentless. It's almost a guarantee that she'll try something. Will tries to prepare himself, but Sue's been full of surprises lately.

About halfway through, Will feels himself relax a bit. Sue wouldn't pull something in front of everyone.

And then he hears vaguely familiar music playing. It builds in volume until Will realizes it's coming from him.

He pulls out his cell phone and _It's Raining Men_ is blaring from it.

Embarrassed, he quickly rejects the call, wondering how the hell Sue managed to change his ringtone.

His phone goes off again, ten minutes later. Beet red and trying to ignore the pointed looks from Figgins, he turns his phone off.

And yet it goes off one more time and Will is forced to pull it out, yet again. He's stumped. He turns it off again _and_ pulls the battery out.

Thankfully the meeting ends five minutes later so he can escape the odd looks. He's not sure what's more embarrassing, the ringtone or that his phone kept going off.

**…**

Sue finds an anxious looking Quinn Fabray sitting in her office after the staff meeting. Her amusement at Schuester's misfortune is keeping her from panicking because when her Head Cheerio shows up looking as she does; it's rarely a good sign.

"Fabray, what brings you by so early without an invitation?"

"I just need to ask you a quick question, Coach."

"Ask whatever you want," Sue replies. "Answers are not guaranteed."

"I know this is going to sound like a crazy question," Quinn starts. "But what do you think of Rachel Berry?"

"Why do you care?"

"It's something I just wanted to know," Quinn says.

"Well, the midget has my respect," Sue tells her.

"She what?"

"You heard me, Q."

"But why?"

"Are you questioning me?"

"Of course not," Quinn replies. "It's just… I don't understand. How could you respect Berry?"

"That is none of your business, Q," Sue says. "I don't owe you _any_ explanations."

"No of course not, Coach. I just…"

"Save it, Fabray. We're done here."

"Right. Sorry, Coach," Quinn says, standing.

Sue doesn't look up until she hears her office door click close quietly.

**…**

Rachel is looking for her lunch in her locker when she feels someone stomping up behind her. It can only be one person.

"So how'd you do it, Man Hands?" Quinn snarls. "Blackmail? Or did you prostrate yourself at her feet, begging for protection?"

"You talked to her, Quinn," Rachel replies. "Do you think I did either of those things? Would that earn Sue Sylvester's respect?"

"I'm not scared of you."

"That's not the reaction I received yesterday," Rachel tells her.

"You caught me off guard," Quinn replies. "It won't happen again." She spins and stomps away.

"Watch your step, Quinn," Rachel calls after her. "It's a whole new era. Your footing isn't as sure as you think it is."

**…**

It's last period and the class is taking a quiz. Will sits at his desk and works on glee related things. Suddenly the door swings open and a cop carrying a boombox struts in.

"William Schuester?" he asks.

"That's me," Will says, feeling apprehensive as he stands.

"I'm here to arrest you," he says.

"What?"

"For being too sexy."

He hits the play button and _I'm Too Sexy_ by Right Said Fred begins playing. The cop/stripper starts gyrating towards Will, who backs up in response. Eventually Will runs out of space and falls into his chair. Then the stripper straddles him and rips off his shirt. He twirls it about and flings it into the corner. The pants are ripped off and tossed aside as well.

And then Will has a man in a navy blue Speedo and a cop hat, grinding against him. Mortified doesn't begin to cover it.

The class, meanwhile, has been watching in fascination as the events unfold. When the stripper is down to the Speedo and hat, they begin cheering and whooping.

This seems to encourage the stripper and he exaggerates his movements even more until Will feels dirty and used.

Once the song finishes for the third time, the stripper hops off Will and bows once to the class. He then grabs his clothing and boombox before swaggering to the door. He tips his hat to Will and then the room before slipping out.

It is impossible to get the class to settle down after that. After only a couple minutes, Will gives up. He tells the class to talk quietly amongst themselves and waits for the end of the period.

He feels a bit in shock himself. Of all the things Sue could have pulled, he can admit he _definitely_ wasn't expecting that.

**…**

"Was that you?" Santana asks Rachel as they walk towards Rachel's locker.

"The stripper?" Rachel clarifies.

Santana nods.

"Would I play a prank _specifically_ on Mr. Schue?"

"There are numerous reasons why you _should_," Santana replies. "But I suppose you wouldn't. Though I don't know why not. We could have so much fun."

"We already have fun."

"Well, _yeah_," Santana says. "But I meant, non naked fun."

"Who are you and what have you done with Santana?"

"Funny."

"I thought so," Rachel smirks.

**…**

The stripper had been particularly embarrassing, not to mention _extremely_ awkward. He has to give Sue props for that, though he'd never, ever admit it anywhere but in his own brain.

Things don't seem to be stopping anytime soon and Will is beginning to wonder if he should start retaliating. The only thing is that he's not quite equipped for such an attempt.

However, he knows some students that are.

His first choice would be Santana, but he's fairly certain she'd never go up against Sue. Not that he blames her, he wouldn't, if she wasn't forcing his hand.

The next choice is Puck, but Will's not sure if that's such a good idea. While Puck might succeed in causing mayhem, it lacks the bite and deviousness he needs to go up against Sue.

He wishes He knew who the Prankster was. He could definitely use _that_ person's help. But there's been no leads for months and even then, the accused had been Rachel Berry. Will hadn't believe Figgins until a video had been mentioned, but he'd only done so reluctantly. It never occurred to him to ask to _see_ the video.

He'd been relieved to learn it wasn't Rachel. Of course he'd felt like a heel and more about his role in the situation. This had been made worse by Sue unexpectedly being in Rachel's corner. He still can't figure out why she did it.

Maybe Rachel has some blackmail material on the woman. That gives Will hope. He'll try to find Rachel tomorrow and find out the source of her power over Sue. He might stand a chance yet.

Feeling buoyant about his plan, Will decides to head home.

Of course that good feeling only lasts until he reaches his car.

_Someone_ has taken all the tires off and stacked them on top of the car. To make matters worse, the car isn't sitting on blocks or anything that would help him put the wheels back on. It is simply sitting on the ground, looking sad and pathetic.

Feeling defeated, Will lets his bag drop to ground as he digs out his cell phone. He supposes this is an example of why he has an AAA card. Well, maybe not exactly.

It's going to be a long afternoon, Will thinks as he waits for a representative to pick up.

**…**

Brittany finds Quinn on the bleachers, seemingly staring at nothing. "Hi Quinn."

"Oh. Hi Britt."

"How come you look so sad?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But I'm a good listener," Brittany protests.

"I can't complain to you about Berry," Quinn tells her.

"Why not?"

"She's your friend."

"So are you."

"I just don't understand what's going on," Quinn starts. "I feel like I'm in some sort of weird alternate universe starting Rachel freaking Berry."

"Maybe you are."

"I mean there's Santana and Berry. And you seem okay with it. Or there's Puck's bromance with Berry. Or the weirdness that is Coach Sylvester seeming to actually _like_ Berry. I don't know my place anymore."

"Duh. You're Quinn Fabray."

"That doesn't seem to matter so much anymore."

"Well that's your fault," Brittany says.

"What?"

"Why do you have to push all the time, Quinn? Rachel only responded like she did the other day because you were mean to Santana."

"She's pretty mean herself," Quinn points out.

"So are you," Brittany counters.

"Exactly," Quinn replies. "She should be used to it."

"Rachel just has a problem with people calling S a slut," B explains.

"But she is."

"_Quinn_."

"What?"

"No one calls Puck a manwhore," Brittany says. "And yet he sleeps with more chicks than me and S combined."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Besides didn't you hate all the names you were called when you were pregnant?"

"But I only had sex once," Quinn argues.

"So? People didn't know that. Besides, we could all call you an idiot at the very least."

"Hey."

"You didn't use _any_ protection?" Brittany questions. "You trusted _Puck_ to take care of it? Even I know better than that."

"Britt…"

"But no one says anything because we know it bothers you," Brittany continues. "So why can't you extend the same courtesy?"

"Extend the same courtesy?" Quinn asks. "You've been hanging around Berry too much."

"Just think about it, Quinn."

Quinn sighs; it's so hard to refuse Brittany, especially when she's pouting. "I promise to think about it," she says finally.

"Yay!" Brittany gives Quinn a hug and jumps up. "I gotta go. Bye Quinn." And she hops down the bleachers.

"Bye B."

**…**

Thursday morning, Will warily enters the school. It's been a long few days of juvenile pranks and he can only hope it's done. He's not sure he can take much more.

He goes to his office, but trips upon entering. He sprawls onto the ground with a grunt. Sitting up he looks back to find what he tripped over.

It's not easily spotted but there is a trip wire stretched across his door.

Sighing, he stands and brushes himself off.

Another insane start to what is most likely going to be a ridiculous day.

**…**

"Hey Rach," Finn greets Rachel at her locker.

"Oh, hello Finn."

"Can we talk?"

"Of course."

"I wanted to talk to you about the whole tattoo thing," Finn begins. "I know technically it's none of my business, but… _Santana_! Really?"

"I realize it's difficult for everyone to comprehend, but I love her and she loves me."

"I guess."

"And if she wants me to get a tattoo, then I'll do it."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"You didn't get it just because she wanted you to?"

"I gave it a great deal of thought, let me assure you."

"Okay," Finn says. "But I still don't understand."

"You don't have to understand," Rachel says. "You just have to accept it."

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm sorry Finn. Sometimes I feel there's too much between us to properly deal with," Rachel says. "Too many hurt feelings and what not."

"Me too."

"That being said, there is nothing you can say that will change my mind about the tattoo. Nor am I going to explain myself. It's an aspect of my relationship and that's it. I'm sorry it upset you, but there's nothing that can be said or done to change it."

Finn sighs. "Okay. Sorry to like bug you or whatever." He shoves his hands in his pockets and tromps away.

"Have a nice lunch, Finn."

**…**

"Rachel!" Will calls after Rachel.

She stops and turns. Seeing him, she smiles and waits for him to catch up to her.

"Hello, Mr. Schue."

"Hey, Rachel," Will greets. "You have a moment?"

"I do indeed."

"I know this is going to sound strange," Will begins. "But I'll admit I'm running low on options."

"Okay."

"Have either Puck or Santana ever given you any ideas for pranks they want to pull?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's just…I have someone playing pranks on me, Coach Sylvester probably, and I need some retaliation."

"Oh," Rachel says. "Why don't you just ask them?

"I don't think Santana would go against Sue," Will says. "And Puck's not… devious enough for what I need."

"Oh. Well, then there's Quinn, she's very devious, though you once again run into the whole Cheerio problem."

"Yeah."

"Kurt and Mercedes are schemers," Rachel volunteers. "Once again, same problem."

Will nods.

"I hate to say it, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "But you might be screwed. Maybe if you wait it out, she'll get bored and stop."

"Seriously?"

"That's the sort of advice _I_ receive about bullying," she tells him.

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

"Sorry I couldn't be more helpful, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "But I have to go."

"Right. Thanks anyhow, Rachel."

"You're welcome, Mr. Schue."

**…**

Of all the pranks Berry put on the list, Sue can admit this is easily her favorite. Not only does it humiliate Schuester, it does so by using his vanity. And Sue can make fun of his hair. It's a win-win in her book.

Sue's not sure she wants to know why Schuester keeps hair gel in his desk or why Berry knows that. Instead she just appreciates that Berry is keeping Schuester busy so she can set everything up.

The hair gel is replaced with Crisco that's been made to look like gel. She then sets up a bucket of ice water that will fall upon Schuester's head when he sits.

With everything set up, Sue sneaks out, but stays near, hoping to hear that everything went according to plan. She watches Schue enter with his obnoxious, jubilant stroll. A minute later, she hears the crash of a bucket and cursing. Straining, she hears the squeak of a desk drawer opening and feeling triumphant, holds back a smirk as she ambles away knowing all too soon Schuester will come out looking ridiculous.

Just as she reaches the end of the hallway, she hears it.

"Sue!"

**…**

"Dude, what the fuck?" Puck exclaims after Finn dies in the most pathetic way, _again_.

Puck, Finn, Mike and Artie are at the Abrams residence playing _Call of Duty_, except Finn keeps dying and fucking up their stats.

"Sorry, I'm not really in the mood."

"In the mood?" Puck grumbles. "Who cares? Man up and help."

"I just can't get over this whole Rachel tattoo thing," Finn continues.

"Why?" Artie asks. "I know you guys went out, but that was forever ago in teenager years."

"I _know_. I don't get it, but I just can't deal with it. It goes against everything I thought I knew about Rachel. I always kinda thought we'd survive as a couple, last through high school. And then I'd go play football somewhere and she'd go to New York. We'd promise to try a long distance relationship, but it wouldn't work out and we'd both agree to end it to save our friendship. So it'd be a mutual break up and we'd be friends for a long time."

"Jeez, when'd you turn into such a chick?" Puck mutters. "She's an ex. Who cares?"

"Uh, she's your ex too," Finn points out.

"So?"

"And yet you're bros with her."

"Yeah," Puck says. "So what?"

"Well, it's just , shouldn't the same logic apply to you?" Finn asks.

"Our relationship lasted a week. It wasn't the mine field of drama, angst and lies that yours was, man," Puck explains.

"Oh. Yeah."

"You've got to just let it go," Mike says. "No offense, dude, but the two of you have always been doomed."

"What?"

"Always," Artie adds. "You lost me twenty bucks for not surviving the summer."

"You guys bet on when we'd break up?"

"Of course we did," Puck replies. "Don't tell me you're surprised."

"No, I, uh, I don't know."

"You're taking this way to seriously," Mike tells him. "You just admitted that you and Rachel weren't meant to be. Yeah, it sucks that it ended sooner than you thought, but it's been long enough. You should be over it."

"For reals," Artie mutters.

"Let it go, dude. Rachel's going to do whatever she wants. You can either stand in her way and get run over or step aside and maintain the friendship you two claim to still want."

"Yeah. I guess."

"What? Are your feelings hurt?"

"Maybe," Finn replies sounding defensive.

"You're the one that lied. You know how she is about that," Puck says.

"I know. I just didn't think I'd get caught."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have told, Hummel, dude," Puck tells him. "Might as well screamed it into a megaphone."

"Totally," Mike agrees.

"So who won the bet?" Finn asks.

"Would you believe Brittany?" Puck answers. "She said July, but the rest of us thought it was too early-"

"Or too late," Artie adds.

"-and so she won by a landslide," Puck continues. "Everyone else thought mid June or before."

"Or during the first few months of this year," Mike finishes. "I thought for sure my bet of the first week of school was spot on."

"Really?" Artie asks.

"Oh yeah," Mike replies. "All that beginning of the year drama? Those two would be sucked in faster than shit down a flushing toilet."

"That was a horrible metaphor," Artie comments.

Mike shrugs. "First thing that came to mind."

**…**

It's been a long day and Will is anxious to escape McKinley. He quickly hurries out to his car, but stops short a few feet from it.

Someone has painted every window of the car red. He steps closer and runs a finger over the glass. Yep, it's paint. He scratches it with his nail. It doesn't seem like it's going to come off easily.

He debates going back inside for some paint remover. But the idea of stepping foot inside, is not appealing. He wonders if AAA removes paint. Though it'd probably be much quicker to just do it himself. Will imagines they've never received a call like that and that would just make getting someone out here a much longer process.

Sighing, he turns around and heads back inside the school. He knows where he can get a large amount of paint remover. He has an arduous couple of hours ahead of him.

**…**

"So you're really not going to tell me what the hell you're doing right now?" Santana asks Rachel.

Rachel is currently sitting at her desk, working on something she won't let Santana see.

"No. It's not for you to know."

"You can't say shit like that to me and not expect a reaction."

"Santana, I love you, but you're not going to find out."

"_Rachel_-"

"However," Rachel continues. "If you can wait until Saturday, you'll find out."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"You swear on all your musical DVDs?" Santana pushes.

Rachel sighs. "Fine. Yes, I swear on all my musical DVDs."

"Okay. I can wait two days."

"Thank you for being so mature about it," Rachel mutters wryly.

**…**

Friday morning, Will dreads entering McKinley. He is _so_ done with the barrage of pranks Sue's been pulling.

When he reaches his office, and sees the state it's in, it's the first time he's cursed out loud about something Sue's done.

Though he's pretty sure she got one of her lackeys to do it.

His entire office is a maze of rope. It looks like the room is filled with dozens of spider webs. The ropes crisscross every which way and to get to his desk, he'd need to be a contortionist or a child.

He sighs and goes to borrow some scissors from Emma.

**…**

Rachel uses the pass Coach Sylvester gave her to get out of first and second period. She hopes it doesn't take too much longer. She hates skipping class, even if she's two weeks ahead with homework and it's for a good cause.

Reflecting on it, Rachel supposes she's now under Coach Sylvester's control, so to speak. She's doing the woman's bidding, despite her apprehensions and that can't be a good sign.

Maybe what really bothers Rachel is how it doesn't bother her as much as it should. She'll admit she's gone through a lot of changes this past year. Dating and friendships aside, her morality seems to have become skewed. She considers setting up such an elaborate and somewhat cruel prank to be the final straw. Because while Mr. Schue isn't the greatest educator or even glee instructor ever, Rachel isn't sure he deserves a week of Coach Sylvester torture followed by retaliation from a student. Because that's what it is, really, retaliation. If she goes through with this, there's no going back. She very well might be everything people were afraid of her becoming.

While this insight is a bit shocking to realize, it doesn't slow her down. And not for one moment does she consider stopping. Maybe she's already too far gone.

**…**

Will is concerned all Sue's pranks are making him paranoid. He's been mostly standing as he teaches today, but every time he sits, he receives an electric shock.

The first time, he jumped and squealed like a little girl. The class' reaction made him work extremely hard at _never_ doing that again.

He knows Sue did _some_thing, but he just can't figure out what. He already examined the chair, multiple times, but there's no wires or things attached. He's checked five times already.

He wonders if that makes him crazy. There's a saying about repeating an action and expecting a different result makes a person insane. But insane people don't know they're insane, right?

Right?

The problem is, since he can't find any evidence of Sue's deviousness, it's possible that the paranoia has overtaken him. Maybe that was her plan all along, to just make him insane. He'd have to quit and he'd be out of her life.

He sits with a sigh. The chair shocks him again.

It's going to be a long day.

**…**

Artie had been beyond shocked when Rachel approached him during lunch. Especially because at first it sounded like she wanted sex from him. Artie can admit that Rachel is hot in a high maintenance kind of way, but he knows that immediately after Santana would rip his dick off and make him eat it. Then she would make him shit it out and eat it again.

Thankfully, Rachel only wants AV assistance from him. He'd never been so relieved that a girl didn't want to have sex with him. He hopes he never has to feel that way again. It's just not right.

They're currently on the roof. Artie wonders if they have permission to be up here. Though it is kind of cool that he's on the roof. Usually, he has to contend with stairs and such. Rachel just reworked the window washer's platform and magically, he's on the roof.

The whole process doesn't take long. The camera is set up and aimed towards what it needs to be. Artie then sets up a back up and wires the two together. Triple checking that the remote works, he hands it to Rachel and explains what she needs to know.

"Please just tell me one thing," Artie says. "Please tell me this isn't for some sort of weird sexcapade between you and Santana."

"It's not," Rachel replies. "I swear."

"Okay. Good luck."

"Thanks Artie," Rachel says. "I owe you cookies."

**…**

Will's never been more thankful for a Friday in his life. Not only is it the end of the week, but it's also, hopefully, the end of Sue's pranks. He knows he'll most likely face one more ridiculous thing done to his car, but he feels confident he can handle almost anything Sue can dish out. After all, he's survived whatever she's already thrown at him.

He's feeling confident when approaches his car. He does so slowly, trying to catch any tricks or booby traps. As far as he can see, there are none. He glances inside; nothing looks amiss.

Maybe they're really over, maybe he can just relax, Will thinks as he opens his car door.

And then he hears an odd whooshing noise, but before he can react, a massive amount of snow falls onto him. It's so much, that he finds himself unable to easily escape. It takes another ten minutes of struggling for him to be free from the snow.

Now Will is impressed. He's definitely pissed, but he's also a bit in awe. Where the hell did Sue find snow when it's not winter? Also, where the hell did the snow come from? He's in the middle of the parking lot. It's not like it was just a gigantic bucket hidden in a tree.

Though Will is also very frightened. If Sue can figure this out, what's to stop her from morphing into an evil mastermind and taking over the world. Making snow just fall from the sky is just baffling. Really, really baffling.

He clears as much snow away as he can. It's fairly easy, since it's already started to melt. Not knowing what else to do, Will climbs into his car and drives home.

**…**

Seeing it in person is even better than Rachel imagined. She wishes Coach Sylvester could have been here to see it, but she has Cheerios practice at the moment. Besides, Sue's presence would have made Mr. Schue suspicious. This is why she had Artie set up the cameras, so she could record it. Also, Rachel did so from two different angles; she likes to be thorough.

Once Mr. Schue drives off, Rachel goes and finds each camera, tears it down and pockets the SD cards. She plans to load them onto her laptop and burn a DVD for Coach Sylvester.

She then heads to the roof to clean up her mess and make sure there's no evidence.

**…**

"So let me get this straight," Puck begins. "Last week, you needed me and my truck to go pick up some mysterious object. And now this week, you need me to return it?"

"I apologize Noah," Rachel replies. "It's just that you have a truck."

"Lucky me."

"Thankfully, it doesn't have to be back until tomorrow morning. So I figure we can have some fun tonight."

"Yeah?"

Rachel nods. "I picked up more of that beer. It seemed to be a big hit last week. And then we're going to go to the football field and hang out."

"The football field? Really? C'mon, Rach. I expected better of you."

"You'll understand when we get there," Rachel assures him.

"Fine. But if it sucks, you owe me bro night beer for another month."

"Deal."

**…**

"You are the most awesome bro in the entire fucking world," Puck murmurs in awe.

They're currently standing in McKinley's end zone with Puck watching Rachel set up a catapult.

"Do I even want to know why you rented a catapult for a week?"

"Your imagination is probably better than the real answer," Rachel tells him.

"Aw, you mean you weren't trying to get the Renaissance club involved in some real life role playing?

"Sadly no."

"Can I launch myself across the field?"

"I'm not sure that's the safest decision."

"I'll just put on all my football equipment," Puck tries.

"You could still break a limb or get a concussion. Helmets don't usually work if the person falls from like fifty feet."

"Spoilsport."

Rachel ignores him and puts various items from her grocery bags into the bowl on the arm. Puck can't see what she's all putting in because it's dark, but he hopes it's something interesting.

"Okay, ready?" she asks after stepping back.

Puck nods.

Rachel pulls a rope and the arm goes flying. Puck watches as various fruits go flying. He sees a cantaloupe, a watermelon, some tomatoes and an eggplant.

"Shouldn't you feel bad about killing that food or something?"

"They were going to be thrown out anyway," Rachel replies. "I got them 75% off."

"Cool. Can I try?"

"Of course. Let me get it all set up again."

**…**

Saturday, Santana lasts until lunchtime before she begs Rachel to show her the project she'd been working on.

Rachel's been waiting for this question all morning. When Santana showed up _hours_ earlier than usual, Rachel figured she would just ask, but she didn't. It probably helps that Rachel also won't say where she and Puck had been when Santana arrived.

It took a lot of coaxing to get Puck up at nine a.m. on a Saturday, but Rachel is nothing if not persuasive. Once they return, she hands him a large cup of coffee which he inhales and then heads home because, "It doesn't have crazy, intense chicks waking me up at the crack of fucking dawn."

So feeling giddy, Rachel gets out her laptop and plays the avi file she made for Coach Sylvester.

It starts with a closer examination of the catapult and then watching it execute a throw. It cuts to Mr. Schue opening his car door and snow suddenly landing on him with a whump. It changes to another angle where the snow falls in slow motion and the horrified, yet comical expression on Mr. Schue's face is easily visible.

"This is what you were working on?"

"Yes, I had to make sure I got everything precisely correct for the trajectory to be perfect. There were a lot of factors to account for."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why did you do that to Mr. Schue?" Santana asks.

"Coach Sylvester asked me to."

"_That's_ the favor she asked of you? To dump snow on Mr. Schue?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "She wanted a big elaborate prank. Which that definitely is. And since she couldn't be there to see it, I taped it for her. And now she can relive it again and again and again."

"She'll probably make a life sized poster of it," Santana says.

"That's why I went for the slow motion," Rachel tells her. "It's much to pick out your favorite horrified expression."

"Where the hell did you get snow at this time of year?"

"Hockey rink," Rachel replies. "When they clean the ice, the remains are very snow like."

"You know the most random things," Santana mutters.

**…**

Despite Santana's enthusiasm, Rachel spends Sunday feeling bad about what she did to Mr. Schue. So Sunday evening she bakes him some cookies. She's already baking some M&M ones for Artie, so she just makes a batch of chocolate chip for Mr. Scue.

She can hear Santana's voice in her head telling her that Mr. Schue deserves that and more, but all Rachel can think is that if that was true, there are _a lot_ of people in her life that deserve a ride in the catapult. She sometimes has issues separating them. Every once in a while, she remembers the hell her life used to be, but rarely feels the need for revenge. Even with Mr. Schue. It was satisfying to execute, but even now, she lacks the motivation to continue pranking Mr. Schue.

She knows that Sue, Santana and maybe even Brittany and Puck would call her weak or something similar, but she doesn't care. They're all under her spell now anyway, and in Rachel's mind that's a better victory than harassment.

**…**

"Have a nice week last week, William?" Sue asks Will as he steps foot into McKinley, Monday morning.

"It was very relaxing," Will replies. "How was yours?"

"It had its moments."

"Well, I'll be going now."

"Hope your desk isn't still out to get you this week, William," Sue calls after him.

**…**

Will enters his office with a feeling of dread. He wouldn't put it past Sue to serve him with another week of pranks. The only thing that would stop her is the lack of ideas. Except, Sue seems to always be filled with ideas.

There's an unknown quantity on his desk and so Will approaches with caution. It turns out to be a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic. He's fearful, but picks up the card and reads it.

_Mr. Schue,___

_I don't know how your week finished, but knowing Coach Sylvester, I'm going to say, not well. So I made you some cookies. Hope this week is better._

_Rachel_

Will doesn't know what to think. He lifts the plastic and chooses one. It's so delicious he eats the whole thing without even meaning to. It really is just the thing to cheer him up. Rachel is just full of surprises.

He feels bad about going to her for any ideas, but she took it all in stride. And he got _really_ good cookies out of it. The only good thing to come out of last week. Maybe he should cut Rachel a bit of slack.

**…**

Feeling particularly smug, Sue enters her office with a song in her heart. On her desk there is a small pink, glittery gift bag. It can only be from Berry because anyone else who would put anything on her desk wouldn't leave such a monstrosity.

Sue makes herself comfortable before opening the bag. Inside she finds a DVD with a post it.

_For when you're feeling low. R_

It better not be her or the glee club singing. Their voices are fine, but it would still induce horrible Schuester flashbacks and scar her even further.

Nonetheless, she puts it into the DVD drive of her computer and starts it up.

It's not what she expected. It starts looking at a catapult and watching it throw some snow. Then it cuts to Schuester just before a massive pile of snow falls on him. And then it shows it from another angle… and in slow motion.

Sue watches five times without meaning to. It's on repeat and Schuester's expression is so amusing, Sue can't help but watch it again and again.

Berry is nothing is not thorough. Just knowing that something ridiculous happened to Schuester before he went home was enough. But having actual visual proof is more than she'd been expecting. The DVD_alone_ is worth owing Berry.

Sue also makes a mental note to ask Berry where she found a catapult. And snow this time of year.

**…**

Artie finds a large plate of cookies in his locker with a note reading, _Thanks for all your help. R_ He tries one right away and they're awesome. He has to do more favors for Rachel, so he can get more cookies.

"Whatcha got there?" Tina asks.

"Cookies," Artie replies, holding up the plate.

Tina grabs one and takes a bite. "Whoa. These are super good. Did Rachel make these?"

"Yeah. I helped her with some AV stuff and she baked me cookies."

"Sounds like a good deal to me."

"Hell yeah, it is," Artie agrees.

**…**

"Good morning."

"Why are you so chipper?" Santana asks Rachel.

"Just because." Rachel pulls out a small paper bag. "I made you some cookies."

"Seriously?" Santana takes the bag from Rachel. "What kind?"

"Peanut butter chocolate chip with fudge swirls."

Santana just stares at Rachel.

"I couldn't sleep."

"And you decided to make me baked goods."

"Well, I didn't want you to feel left out when other people got cookies," Rachel explains.

"What other people?"

"Artie," Rachel replies. "For helping me set up the AV equipment Friday. And Mr. Schue, because I felt bad."

"You're too nice babe," Santana says.

"You get cookies out of it, what do you care?"

"Oooh, cookies, can I have one?" Brittany asks as she bounces over the couple.

"How'd you know they were cookies?"

"I can smell them, silly," Brittany tells Santana.

"Yeah, silly, she can smell them," Rachel teases.

"I want cookies," Brittany pouts.

Rachel reaches into her bag and pulls out another paper bag.

"Yay!"

"What kind does she get?"

"A mix," Rachel replies. "A few of yours, a few of Artie's and a few of Mr. Schue's."

"Thanks, Rach," Brittany says, her mouth full of M&M cookie.

"You're something else, babe."

"Don't you forget it."


	14. Best Served Cold

**Title:** Best Served Cold  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Brittany, Santana, Puck, Tina, Special Guest Star  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Revenge.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~2,900  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Season 1  
><strong><br>**

Brittany is running late. At least she's pretty sure she is. She's not sure what time it is, but she feels like she's late. She should really get another watch, except the number she's lost over the years is almost as high as the number of boys she's kissed. She could get one tattooed on, so she wouldn't lose it, but then it probably wouldn't keep time very well.

She's hustling down the street, lost in thoughts about watches and tattoos when she sees someone she never thought she'd see again, Jesse St. James.

Brittany thinks back to how upset Rachel was after Jesse dumped her and then how it got worse when Vocal Adrenaline egged her. Mr. Schue's idea of revenge was pathetic and weak. Brittany wasn't Rachel's biggest fan back then, but even _she_thought that.

Brittany decides she needs to get a proper sort of revenge for Rachel. Knowing now how awesome she is, Brittany figures Rachel deserves it. She pulls some tissue out of her purse and a small bottle. Soaking the tissue, she sneaks up behind Jesse and presses the soaked tissue against his nose and mouth.

Ten seconds later he's out and Brittany is half walking, half dragging him to the car. Except she doesn't know where to go. Her house has her little sister and her mom. San's mom is scary and she wants it to be a surprise for Rachel.

She decides to drive to Puck's. His mom works a lot and Puck's always said he wanted to punch Jesse in the face, among other things.

When she reaches the Puckerman residence, she calls Santana because she'll definitely want to join in the revenge.

Puck is of course surprised when Brittany shows up on his doorstep unannounced. Thankfully, his mother is at work and his little sister is at a friend's. When he sees Jesse in Brittany's front seat, he seems almost giddy. He helps Brittany get him inside and into the basement.

**…**

"Do I even want to know why you carry chloroform around?" Puck asks.

"No, you don't," Santana answers.

They're in Puck's basement staring at an unconscious Jesse St. James. He's bound at the wrists and ankles; Santana brought rope with her.

"Should we call Rach?" Puck asks.

"No way," Santana replies. "She doesn't believe in revenge, even if it's on her behalf and totally justified."

"Girl is too forgiving," Puck says.

"Lucky for us," Brittany volunteers. "We should blindfold him."

"He'll still recognize our voices, Britt," Santana points out.

"Yeah, but it'll totally freak him out if he can't see us," Brittany says.

"Should we gag him too?" Puck asks.

"Naw, but if he gets too freaked, we can threaten him with it," Brittany explains.

"He _will_get freaked," Santana says. "Wouldn't you?"

"I know, right?" Brittany smiles.

"You're really creeping me out right now," Puck announces.

Brittany's grin becomes almost sinister.

"Whoa!" Puck exclaims, backing up.

"Stop being a pussy and get something we can blindfold him with before he wakes up, Puckerman," Santana snaps.

"Sir, yes, sir," Puck replies, saluting Santana. He then bounds up the stairs.

Shaking her head at his antics, Santana pulls out her cell and begins taking pictures. She wants to capture the moment. "We should record this," Santana suggests.

"Yeah, but who would film?" Brittany questions. "None of us are that great with technology and I don't want to miss one moment."

"I suppose that's true."

"What about Artie?"

"Yeah, except how are we going to get his chair down the stairs?"

"True," Brittany agrees. "Maybe Tina."

"Yeah."

Puck returns, dashing back down the stairs. "I couldn't find anything so I just brought some tube socks." He throws them at Santana.

"Ewww, Puckerman."

"They're clean."

"It's perfect," Brittany says. "We can use one to blindfold him and the other as a gag."

Santana tosses one to Brittany, who wraps it around Jesse's head while Santana pockets the other. Puck just stares at them.

"I'll call Tina," Brittany volunteers, running up the stairs.

"Why are we calling Tina?" Puck asks.

"So we have someone document this momentous occasion," Santana replies. "I want to have _some_thing to show Rachel."

**…**

About ten minutes later, Brittany returns with Tina trailing behind her. It's perfect timing, because Jesse seems to be waking up.

Tina hold up a small hand held camera and waves.

"Hey," Puck says.

"She doesn't want to be recognized, which I said was fine, so she's not going to talk," Brittany explains.

"Sounds fair," Santana says.

With the camera rolling, they all turn and watch as Jesse wakes up and realizes something's wrong. His hands jerk first and when he realizes they're behind his back, the panic begins. Next, he tries his feet and find them tied as well. His head begins twitching around when he realizes he's blindfolded also.

"Who's there?" he asks. "I can hear you breathing. What the fuck is going on?"

"Jesse St. James," Santana says. "We meet again."

"Yeah," Puck adds. "Didn't think you'd see us again, did you?"

"Lopez? Puckerman?"

"That's right, buddy," Puck answers. "We have some unfinished business."

"What the fuck for? We won regionals fair and square. Besides that was _last_year, you guys need to let things go."

"You think this is about glee?" Santana asks. "You're way off, buddy. This is about Rachel."

"You really expect me to believe that _you two_are fighting her battles? And how the fuck did I get here?"

"A lot can change, _Jesse_. And Brittany brought you here."

"That crazy blonde?"

This earns hit a kick in the side, strangely enough from Tina.

"Maybe you shouldn't be bad mouthing someone who's about to decide your fate," Brittany says.

"Remember, we were trained by Sue Sylvester," Santana adds.

"So what? You're going to egg me as well?"

"Tempting," Santana admits. "We haven't decided yet."

"We were waiting for you to wake up," Brittany adds. "Get your input."

"Ha ha."

"So," Santana starts. "Thoughts?"

"A vat of blue raspberry slushie," Puck suggests.

"Or a vat of boiling oil," Brittany tries.

"Where would you get a vat of boiling oil?" Jesse asks.

"Coach Sylvester, obviously," Brittany answers.

"Obviously," Jesse mocks.

"We strip him naked, cover him with honey and put him by some ant hills," Santana says.

"That might be going a bit too far, S," Brittany replies.

"Plus, where would be find a bunch of ant hills?" Puck asks.

"What if we call that chick you know and have her tattoo something stupid on his forehead?" Santana asks. "And maybe other places too."

"Tramp stamp," Brittany says. "Like a butterfly or a smiley face."

"I was thinking a bar code on his forehead," Santana replies.

"Oooh, I like," Puck says.

Tina taps Brittany on the shoulder and hands her a piece of paper. The blonde opens and reads it before saying out loud, "We leave him naked, tied to a tree."

"I like it," Santana says.

"We shave his hair," Puck suggests. "And not just his head."

"No way," Jesse interjects.

"We could pierce stuff too," Brittany adds.

"Like I'm going to sit still for any of that," Jesse protests.

"We have ways of making you cooperate," Santana says.

Jesse scoffs. "Try to be a little more cliché, why don't you?"

"It's definitely a good idea to mock the people who tied you up, dude," Puck replies.

"You guys don't have the _balls_to do anything to me," Jesse snaps.

"A challenge?" Santana questions. "That wasn't a very good idea, _Jesse_."

"Please," Jesse sneers. "We egg your teammate, your captain, your lead, your best shot at winning and all you can do is sing a song? Pathetic."

"That's why you're here now, silly," Brittany says. "The egging we can let go. But not only did you use Rachel, you also used knowledge gained during your courtship to make her miserable. That is totally unacceptable."

Jesse just stares at Brittany or at least, they all assume he does through the blindfold.

"Aren't you supposed to be the dumb one?" he asks finally.

This earns him a kick in the nuts from Santana. They ignore his gasps of pain as they try to figure something out.

"I vote tattoo," Brittany says.

"Yeah," Santana adds.

Tina nods.

"All right," Puck says. "I'll give Nikki a call." He digs out his cell phone and dials. "Hey, Nikki, it's Puck. Oh you know it. Listen, I have a weird question to ask. Would you be willing to tattoo someone who's unconscious? Why does that matter? Maybe. He deserves it. Yeah, well he does. No. Fine. Thanks anyhow. Later." Puck hangs up. "So that's a no."

"Ha!" Jesse comments from the floor.

"Yeah, keep taunting us," Santana says. "That'll end well for you."

"We should pierce stuff," Brittany suggest. "Awkward places."

"We can't take him to a piercer," Puck points out. "I assume they'd have ethics like Nikki does."

"We can just do it ourselves," Brittany replies. "We just need a big needle, a lighter and some ice."

"It's not a bad thought," Santana considers.

"Oh hell no," Jesses says. "I'm not getting some weird infection from Amateur Pierces 'R' Us or whatever you want to call yourselves."

"Too long of name," Santana replies. "Can we please gag him now?"

"What? There's no way in hell you're going to-garf mep."

Brittany looks triumphant as Jesse valiantly tries to remove the gag.

"It would have been better if they'd been dirty socks, don't you think?"

"Maybe so, B," Santana replies. "But there's no way in hell I'm touching one of Puckerman's dirty socks."

"Well, then maybe next time you'll bring your gimp mask instead, Lopez."

"I thought you said you got rid of that, San," Brittany says.

"Holy shit!" Puck exclaims. "Waaay too much information about someone I'm not allowed anymore to think about naked."

"You do know Britt is just messing with you, right Puckerman?" Santana asks.

"Am I?" Brittany asks, coyly.

"Yeah, you're really freaking me out, B," Puck comments.

Tina raises her hand in agreement.

Jesse's mumblings around the sock are becoming louder and louder.

Tina hands Brittany another note. She opens it and reads out loud, "What if he chokes?"

"Good," Santana says.

"Fine," Puck sighs. "We'll take it out."

"This is all very weird and creepy," Jesse says. "But could you losers just untie me so I can leave?"

"Please don't tell me you think this is just some scare tactic?" Santana questions. "Because it's definitely not."

"As if I'm scared," Jesse snaps back. "You freaks couldn't come up with decent revenge if it kicked you in the face."

"I should kick you in the face," Santana growls as she lunges at him.

"San," Brittany says, grabbing her arm. "He won't be so clever in about an hour will he?"

"No, I guess he won't."

"You New Directions are all talk," Jesse says. "I don't believe for one minute you're going to anything that horrible to me."

"God," Puck groans. "Can we just chloroform him now so he's quiet?"

"Britt?"

Brittany places a soaked paper towel against Jesse's face and all too soon he's unconscious.

"So do we know what we want to do to him?" Tina asks.

**…**

"I must like Rach even more than I thought," Puck comments.

"Why do you say that?" Tina asks.

"Because I'm stripping a dude naked just for her."

The two of them are now in the bathroom, stripping Jesse so they can shave him. Brittany and Santana are out buying supplies.

"I still think this would have been better downstairs," Tina says. "We could just do it on an old blanket and then throw it away after."

"No way," Puck answers. "If my mom came home and saw it, I'd have no explanation that wouldn't result in grounding and a possible police call. At least we can lock the bathroom door."

"I don't see how the four of us, plus him are going to fit in here," Tina replies.

"It should work if you just sit on the toilet and film."

"We're back, bitches," Santana says, entering.

"Okay, good, help me get him up," Puck tells her.

While the two of them get Jesse situated, Brittany gets out the scissors. She then throws a pair of yellow rubber gloves at Puck.

"What are these for?"

"You're shaving his junk," Brittany tells him.

"No way in hell."

"Don't bother, Puckerman," Santana says. "It's already been decided."

"Fine," Puck agrees. "But you're giving him an extra dose of chloroform before we start that."

"That's fair," Brittany says.

Brittany then begins cutting off all the hair on Jesse's head. When it's almost buzz cut like, Santana pulls out an electric razor and shears off the rest.

"He looks good bald," Brittany says.

"He looks like a melon," Santana snarks.

"It's definitely different," Puck agrees.

Santana pulls out three cans of shaving cream and a pack of disposable razors while Brittany fills the sink with water. They smear the shaving cream everywhere and begin shaving all Jesse's body hair off. It takes some time, but soon he's as bare as a newborn.

"I still think one of you should do this," Puck says as Brittany and Santana reposition Jesse. "A dude shouldn't shave another dude's package."

"Is that part of the bro code?" Santana asks.

"It's one of those implied things."

"Too bad, Pucky," Brittany says. "You were outvoted."

The girls take pity on him and each put on a yellow glove. They then cover the area with shaving cream before handing the gloves back over to Puck. Brittany rechloroforms Jesse as Puck prepares.

Looking pissed and grossed out, Puck grabs a new razor and goes to work. He's done quickly and it's a bit messy, but at least it's done.

Just to be malicious, Santana goes over the area with the electric razor to make sure they didn't miss anything.

"Why didn't we just use that for his whole body?" Puck asks.

"Because you didn't want to, remember?" Santana replies. "In case your mom comes home early and heard it? You said you didn't want to try to explain why you were in the bathroom with three chicks, a video camera and a naked dude."

"Oh. Yeah."

"So now what?"

"I still think we should pierce something," Brittany says. "I've got everything we need, including embarrassing earrings."

"Fine," Santana says. "While you're doing that, we can figure out where we're going to leave him."

They all watch as Brittany pulls out a large needle and a lighter. She runs the needle through the flame and pulls out a baggie of earrings.

First, she pierces both ears, putting in little snowmen with flashing red noses. Next, she pierces both nipples putting in small gold hoops. Finally, she pierces his nose, putting in a rainbow stud.

"That was… wow, Britt, I don't know what to say," Puck says. "How the hell did you learn to do that?"

"Learn? I didn't. I just did it."

"Whoa," Puck murmurs.

"There are no words for how I feel about you now," Tina says.

**…**

"I never would've pictured Jesse with plain old navy boxer briefs," Santana says as they're dressing him. "I was thinking something more pretentious like silk."

"Joke all you want, but silk feels really good around the junk," Puck says.

"A very important feature, I'm sure," Tina says.

"We need to figure out how we're going to get him out of here," Brittany interrupts.

"We've got one of those super large rolling suitcases," Puck replies. "We can probably squish him in there."

"Yeah, that could work."

**…**

The next morning the students of Carmel High are greet with the sight of a crucifixion blocking the front entrance.

It doesn't take long for a group to surround it. The duct tape over his mouth helps muffle his pleas for help. A lot of people recognize a pink polka dotted boxer clad Jesse St. James; it hasn't been that long, but no one seems willing to pull him down.

It might be because they're laughing at the sign around his neck.

**I am a massive dickhead to make up for having a tiny penis.**

The sign has a magnifying glass hanging from it; that was Santana's idea. There's also a smiley face on it; that was Brittany's idea.

Eventually someone gets a janitor who cuts him down and somehow manages to half catch him when he falls.

Everyone whoops and claps upon seeing this and goes inside.

Not knowing what else to do, Jesse borrows some gym clothes so he can get home without being arrested. He already has an idea of what those New Directions kids did to him, but he wants to fully examine himself in the privacy of his own home. So he thanks the janitor for pulling him down and the clothes and begins the long walk.

**…**

Rachel is at her locker getting her books for the day when Tina stops and hands her a DVD.

"It's not just from me," Tina tells her. "It's from Puck, Brittany and Santana too."

"Thanks Tina. What is it?"

"Something to make you smile when you're feeling down."

"Thanks." Rachel slips the DVD into her locker, closes it and heads to first period.

**End**


	15. Rapiers at Dawn

**Title:** Rapiers at Dawn  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, New Directions  
><strong>Rating:<strong> light R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Quinn challenges Rachel.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~14,700  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.  
><strong>AN:** All the trivia is as true as anything else you get from Wikipedia.

Rachel spends most Tuesday slightly distracted, wondering what could possibly be on the DVD Tina handed her. The participants are remaining strangely silent about it, including Brittany. _That_, concerns her slightly. It probably doesn't help that her imagination is running more wild than usual.

She doesn't really have time until that evening. Instead of starting her homework immediately like usual, she gives in to her curiosity and puts the DVD in her computer.

It starts with what looks like a blurry picture of Noah's basement. Rachel hears familiar voices and muttering off camera. Once the picture is focused, Rachel sees Jesse St. James laying on the floor, tied up.

She actually feels a wave of cold wash over her because she has a feeling that whatever's about to happen isn't particularly nice. And the fact that it's about to be done in her name, feels… she's not sure what she feels, actually.

She watches the whole thing in silence. She sees her friends mock Jesse as he tries to verbally fight back, but really just seals his fate. After seeing Santana kick Jesse in the groin, Rachel knows whatever they ended up doing was _very_ humiliating.

The shaving she's okay with, though shaving _everything_ seems kind of mean. But seeing Brittany pierce various parts of Jesse, Rachel now knows why Noah and Tina have been seemingly avoiding Brittany. Though she actually laughs out loud at Tina's, "There are no words for how I feel about you now."

In Rachel's mind they've gone a bit too far, but she doesn't find it surprising. She knows that Puck, Santana and even Brittany still feel like they have to do penance for their past behavior. Rachel only hopes they didn't seek Jesse out; that it was instead happenstance.

Watching them crucify Jesse is definitely too much. The sign is amusing, especially the addition of the smiley face, though the magnifying glass might just be too malicious. And the fact that they most likely left her there overnight is just too much for Rachel. She doesn't know what to think.

Rachel knows why they did it and she appreciates the sentiment, but she definitely thinks they went too far.

Sighing, she goes downstairs and begins baking. It's her best method for thanking and apologizing to people. Rachel figures tomorrow she'll be trying to apologize to Jesse, if he'll talk to her.

**…**

The next day when Tina goes downstairs for breakfast she finds a small box on the counter with a note from her mother on it.

_Tina, this was on the front step when I went to get this morning. Mom_

Curious, but a bit apprehensive, she opens it and finds a plate of cookies inside. On the inner lid of the box is a note.

_Tina, I just wanted to say thanks for assistance during the revenge. It's nice to know I have friends willing to go to such lengths for me. Rachel._

The cookies are delicious, but Tina wonders why Rachel didn't just give them to her at school.

**…**

Santana's getting a little annoyed with her girlfriend. She knows for a fact that Tina gave Rachel the DVD yesterday and she's been waiting for nearly 24 hours for a response to it. Beyond the quick text of thanks and saying she'll watch it after school, there's been _no_ communication from Rachel at all.

It's so out of character, that Santana finds herself a bit paranoid.

Pulling into the school parking lot, Santana braces herself for Rachel's reaction. The lack of immediate response doesn't bode well and Santana doesn't know what mood Rachel will be in at school today.

Rachel isn't at her locker and so Santana goes to hers. There Brittany is opening Santana's locker instead of her own.

"Morning B," Santana greets. "You do know that that's my locker, right?"

"Of course, silly," Brittany replies. "It's just that Rachel said to make sure you opened your locker this morning."

"Wait, _Rachel_ said? When did you talk to Rachel?"

"I didn't," Brittany says. "She left a plate of cookies for me to say thanks and the note said that yours were in your locker and to make sure you checked. I got tired of waiting for you, so I decided to check for you."

"Oh. And?"

Brittany hands Santana a note while she chews on a cookie.

_San, Sorry these weren't at your house like everyone else's, but I ran out of time and I assumed you wouldn't mind. I really appreciate you defending my honor like that, belatedly or otherwise. Though I have**major**__concerns about your methods and we will be talking. That being said, this is just the first part of your thank you, fear not. Use your imagination, but reality will be better. Love, Rachel_

"Huh," Santana mutters, accepting a cookie from Brittany.

**…**

"Cookie?"

Artie looks over at Tina who's holding out a cookie.

"Uh, yeah, thanks."

"They're from Rachel," Tina explains. "She baked them to say thanks for the thing with Jesse and since you helped me with the DVD, I figured you should have some too."

"Oh cool, thanks."

"Yeah."

"So she liked it?"

"I guess so," Tina replies. "I haven't actually spoken to her about it. These were apparently left on our doorstep."

"Weird."

"Kinda. Yeah."

**…**

By the time first period is over, Puck's already demolished his cookies. His bro makes the best peanut butter chocolate chip cookies ever. He sends a quick text telling her how awesome they were, but doesn't get a response. He just shrugs. She's probably "thanking" Santana or something.

**…**

"Where do you guys keep getting cookies?" Kurt asks Tina and Artie.

"Rachel."

"Where are our cookies?" Mercedes asks.

"They're thank you cookies," Tina explains.

"Yeah," Artie continues. "We helped out and so we got thank you cookies."

"Hmph, girl could spread the love a bit," Mercedes mutters.

"You want one?" Tina asks. She hands one to Kurt and one to Mercedes.

Both accept them grudgingly.

"Do I even want to know what favors you performed for Miss Berry?" Kurt questions.

"AV assistance," Artie supplies. "I set up a camera."

"I made a DVD," Tina answers.

"So no cookies for us then," Mercedes says.

**…**

It's lunchtime and Santana still hasn't heard from Rachel and what's more worrisome is her phone is turned off. It's possible her battery just died, but that still doesn't explain why she wasn't in second period. When Santana stopped by after class, Quinn had very rudely informed her that Rachel hadn't been in class.

Santana's checked in with everyone and no one's seen Rachel yet. Except for the cookies, Rachel's presence hasn't been felt all day.

It's mostly her phone being off that concerns Santana. Usually if Rachel's upset, she'll just ignore her cell, but she never turns it off. Something about always being available. for either emergencies or discoveries.

Santana's also pretty sure she's the only one who's worried. Both Puck and Brittany remind her that Rachel Berry can easily take care of herself. They try distracting her with talk of the revenge on Jesse or the stupid stunt the hockey team attempted earlier, but she's too distracted. All she can think of are various horror movie plots. What if the crazy guy in the sewer got her while she was delivering cookies?

Brittany finally gets fed up and drags Santana to Rachel's locker at the end of lunch. Britt then picks the locker and begins digging in the locker for clues.

Santana's eyes are drawn to the envelope on the top shelf with just an S on it. Grabbing it, she finds it unsealed and pulls out a note.

_S, I'm fine. Stop worrying so much. I'll call you this evening. R_

"See?" Brittany says, after reading over Santana's shoulder. "I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"How about the fact that she really _may_ be psychic?" Santana counters.

"I'm cool with it."

**…**

Puck finds it odd that he hasn't actually _seen_ Rachel yet. It's after lunch and he just assumed he'd see her by now. Whether it would be a thank you or a beratement, he hadn't known, but Rachel Berry _always_makes her presence known.

The super awesome cookies, while to many seem like a thank you, are in fact, just an acknowledgement. Rachel doesn't believe in revenge; she's quite vehement about it, actually. However, she still believes in recognizing gestures even if she doesn't agree with them

Puck figures he'll hear about it eventually. He tries to shrug it off until the inevitable confrontation and just be glad he got cookies.

**…**

"So how come you're freaking out?" Brittany asks Santana after Cheerios practice.

"Lots of reasons. Rachel doesn't usually skip. If she's not coming to school, she always lets me know the myriad of reasons why. She _never_ turns her phone off."

"Oh."

"But mostly I'm worried about the whole Jesse thing. Rachel doesn't believe in revenge and I kinda think she's pissed, that's why her phone's off. I mean, yeah I guess I could have put a stop to it, but I've been wanting to do something to that douche since last year. And Rachel might have let the shaving part go, but I think we might have went too far."

"You can just say it was all my idea," Brittany supplies.

"We recorded everything, Britt, remember?"

"Dilemma then."

"Yeah, it kinda is."

"It'll be fine, S," Brittany tells her. "She's not going to break up with you for defending her honor. Besides, if she was, why would she give you cookies?"

"Because she's Rachel," Santana replies, sullenly.

"Then she wouldn't have left a note," Brittany tries.

"I guess."

"You worry too much, San," Brittany says.

"I'll just feel better once I talk to her," Santana explains.

**…**

Rachel spends the morning thinking. She's not angry, just concerned. The fact that they didn't bother hiding their identities, except for Tina, means Jesse knows exactly who tortured him. And while he might not be actively retaliating, he does believe in people getting what's coming to them. She hopes he doesn't call the police.

She's baked him some cookies as well. She hopes they'll at least convince him to talk to her.

She has to knock and ring the doorbell for over five minutes before the door is yanked open.

"I wondered if you'd show up," he sneers.

Rachel holds up the plate of cookies.

"Come in then."

She follows him into the kitchen and sits at the table. He goes the refrigerator and returns with a glass of milk and a bottle of water, which he hands to Rachel. He sits himself, unwraps the chocolate chips cookies and takes a large bite.

Rachel slowly opens her water, trying not to stare. Jeese's wearing a baseball cap, a sight she's never seen and the fact that he's now bald is clearly evident.

"I assume you're here to plead on behalf of your avengers."

"I wanted to apologize for their actions," Rachel explains. "While I don't agree with what they did, I do appreciate it. However, I do believe they went too far; with the piercing for example."

"And the crucification?"

"I haven't decided," Rachel replies. "Though the being left out overnight part is definitely going too far."

"So what?" Jesse asks. "You're dating Puckerman again? And he got his lackeys to revenge his latest play toy?"

"While your anger is justified, I don't appreciate your word choice, Jesse. And no, I'm not dating Noah."

"Then what?"

"We've become… friends this year and so they now feel it's their job to defend me."

"A bit late."

"It's never too late to defend someone's honor."

"You do know it's not the nineteenth century," Jesse says. "Defend your honor?"

"Jesse, I'll be straight with you. After the whole _incident_, I had no intention of ever willingly interacting with you ever again, but once again, my choices have been taken away from me. That being said, I've forgiven you for your transgressions against me."

"Lucky me," he snarks.

Ignoring him, Rachel continues. "However, I don't feel bad for you if others take actions against you. Something similar, though not as severe, should have been done sooner. Not for the egging, though the fact that you killed all those little chicks to torture me is completely unacceptable, but for the fact that you tried to take my greatest gift from me while following Shelby's orders." Rachel sighs. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. A performance is a performance. We're too similar for me to not understand that."

"So why the hell are you here?"

"To make sure you're not going to press charges against them."

"They're the morons that didn't bother to disguise themselves or their voices."

"_Jesse_."

"And why shouldn't I?" he continues. "They _kidnapped_ me. They abused me. They shaved my entire body and then pierced me. If that doesn't deserve criminal charges, I don't know what does."

"You're not pressing charges," Rachel says. "You're going to let it go and we will file it under the whole disaster that was our relationship. We've both been humiliated. Vocal Adrenaline won Regionals and you've moved onto your big next step. There's no need to drag this out. Besides, do you really want _more_ people to know you've been shaved and pierced? And that, more than likely, you were taken out by cheerleaders? Because I promise you that if you pursue this in a legal capacity, I will make sure everyone knows. They'll know everything you don't want people to know."

"You don't scare me."

"I have more dirt on you than you me," Rachel tells him. "And a lot has changed this past year. I've modified my views on the world. You only have yourself to blame for that."

"Oh please," Jesse scoffed.

"For example," Rachel continues. "You've already eaten three of those cookies. Did you ever stop and consider what I might have _done_ to those cookies? As you're aware, I'm a superb baker and an intense researcher. There are a _number_ of things I could have done to those that would make you very unhappy."

Having taken a bite of a fourth cookie, Jesse hurries to the sink and quickly spits the chewed up bits out.

"What the fuck, Rachel?"

"So maybe you should take me a bit more seriously when I tell you to drop this."

Jesse glances back and forth between Rachel and the plate of cookies. He can only stare at the serene, but eerie look on her face as she waits for his response. At the moment, he almost doesn't recognize her.

"Fine," he says. "I'll drop it, but just this once. If one of your freaks _ever_ lays a hand on me ever again, the consequences will be very harsh."

Rachel nods. "Good. We'll I'll leave you be." She stands. "Don't worry, I can find my way out. Good bye Jesse. And I didn't do anything to the cookies," she tells him before leaving.

**…**

"Where the hell have you been all day?" Santana exclaims when Rachel shows up at her house later.

"I took a personal day."

"You couldn't have called?"

"Apparently not," Rachel replies wryly.

"You're mad at me," Santana observes. "I was freaked out all morning, and _you're_ mad at _me_."

"You don't think you went a little too far with the whole Jesse thing."

"We just got caught up in the moment."

"You left him crucified in just boxers over night," Rachel points out.

"He deserved it for egging you," Santana explains. "It isn't just that he egged you, cause _that_ is definitely not cool. But that they maliciously picked something they knew would upset you as a vegan, makes it worse. Plus he spent all that time trying to get into your pants when he was just Corcoran's mole? It was justice. Besides, once B chloroformed him, there was no going back."

"I should have known it was Britt who started the whole thing," Rachel says. "That explains a lot."

"What? So now it's okay that B started it?" Santana questions. "Some days I think you like her better than me.

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel replies. "Of course I like her better than you. I thought you knew that already."

Santana can only gape.

"Oh don't be like that," Rachel continues. "I was just kidding."

"Well I don't like you anymore," Santana says.

"And it's not okay just because Brittany started it. I just understand things better now."

"So what's the problem?"

"No problem." Rachel sighs. "You're lucky he's not pressing charges."

"He wouldn't dare."

Rachel shakes her head in disbelief. "Sometimes I think you forget that your powers at McKinley don't always extend into the real world."

"Maybe _mine_ don't," Santana agrees. "But Coach's definitely do."

"Perhaps, but that means you would have had to go to her first," Rachel says. "To ask her to confront him."

"What for? He obviously didn't go to the police."

"But he was going to."

"You talked to him?"

"I visited him, actually," Rachel tells her.

"What the fuck for?"

"To make sure he wasn't going to press charges. And give him some "I'm Sorry" cookies."

"You made him cookies?"

"How can you possibly be mad about me giving him cookies?" Rachel asks.

"Because he doesn't deserve an apology. He deserves to get his ass kicked."

"And having his entire body shaved wasn't enough?"

"No."

"And the piercings?"

"Still not enough."

"Well, trust me, they were vital to my case," Rachel says.

"What? You placated him with delicious cookies and begged him not to turn us in?" Santana spits out. "I don't understand you. At all."

"Actually, that's not even near to what happened," Rachel replies.

"You better not have blown him."

"Why would you go there?"

"Why are you being so secretive?"

"Why are you being so defensive?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Santana asks. "It's obvious you're pissed at me."

"When did I say that?"

"Well, I'm pissed at you. For groveling to that bastard."

"Perhaps _I'm_ agitated that you would think that. Rachel Berry does not grovel."

"Then what? You went over there with cookies and then kicked his ass?"

"Don't be absurd."

"Then what?" Santana growls. "What could have possibly happened when you went over there that convinced him not to call the cops?"

"That's none of your business."

"Of course it's my business! You're my girlfriend. Who went over to your douche bag ex's house and gave him cookies. If this was a rom com, he'd be calling you tomorrow to go out."

"Well then thank god it isn't a movie," Rachel replies.

"So you're really not going to tell me?"

"Why is it so important that you know?"

"Why won't you tell me?" Santana counters.

"I'd just rather not talk about it."

Santana growls in frustration. "See it's statements like _that_, that make me suspicious."

Rachel sighs. "I realize the implications of the statement, but I had hoped that our history and the trust you have in me would be enough, that maybe we wouldn't have to talk about this _right_ now."

"Well, apparently you were wrong."

"Then maybe I should go."

"Maybe you should."

Rachel shoots Santana a longing look for a moment and then stomps out.

**…**

On the way back to her house, Rachel acknowledges to herself that she may have over reacted. She does have a tendency to do that, especially in relationships. In a lot of ways, she and Santana are too similar; ruthless tenacity being the most obvious at the moment.

The truth is, Rachel isn't entirely comfortable with the fact that she deceived Jesse into thinking she might have poisoned him. She knows she's capable, earlier actions aside, she's always known. But she's still bothered by this knowledge. In addition, keeping up her bravado in front of Jesse when all she really wanted to do was tearfully ask him why and possibly hit him was draining. However, she knows that it would not have ended well and protecting her friends would have been less likely.

Afterwards all she had wanted to do was _be_ with her girlfriend. She certainly hadn't been prepared for a fight, though perhaps she should have been. Santana lashes out when she feels threatened and Rachel can see how her actions would affect her girlfriend. It's just unfortunate, because Rachel really needs some time to process before she explains to Santana what she did to ensure there isn't any police involvement. Seeing Jesse just brought up too many memories and the emotion related.

Making it home and flopping onto her bed, Rachel realizes she's exhausted; so much for the personal day. It certainly didn't relax her; if anything, it had the opposite effect. If she wasn't so committed to her academic endeavors, she would skip tomorrow as well. McKinley doesn't require a note from a parent until the fourth day, so she'd be safe in that respect. Still, it galls her to skip school, so she resigns herself to going.

**…**

Santana paces her room for almost five minutes after Rachel leaves; that in itself being a surprise. She hadn't expected Rachel to walk out. They've said similar things to each other before, but usually the other person just ignores it and keeps pushing until the issue is resolved. It's probably why, despite their matched levels of stubbornness, they're still together.

This is the first time she's doubted that fact, though. Maybe _because_ Rachel walked out.

She wishes she knew what caused her, admittedly, slight overreaction. Jealousy probably. She's a possessive person. Everyone knows that. Rachel knows that more than most. If she would have just told Santana what happened, they could be doing any number of more pleasurable things, instead of sulking separately.

Fed up with the situation, Santana grabs her cell phone and stares at it for a long moment before dialing.

**…**

Rachel is laying on her bed, eyes closed when her bedroom door opens. She assumes it's one of her fathers, though neither is due home for hours. She keeps her eyes closed and waits for him to speak.

Instead, there's the quiet hum of movement and a weight joins her on the bed.

"I know you're not sleeping, Rach," Brittany says.

Rachel doesn't open her eyes. "How'd you get in?"

"I picked the lock, silly," Brittany tells her.

"It's very reassuring that our neighbors might have possibly seen you do that and did nothing to assist," Rachel comments.

"It's the cheerleading outfit," Brittany replies. "I'm very non threatening."

"Looks can be deceiving. Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?"

"Santana called me-"

"Did she?"

"-and once she was done ranting, I decided to come over and see you."

"Thanks, I guess."

Brittany lays down next to Rachel. "I was worried you were mad at us when you didn't show up at school today."

"Not mad, exactly. I suppose I just needed some time to process."

"And stop Jesse from calling the police."

"That too."

"That was really nice, but you didn't have to," Brittany replies. "I had a plan if we got in trouble."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I was going to take full credit and play the dumb blond card. Tina never spoke, Jesse didn't know we filmed it and I'd just claim Puck and Santana were just there to scare him. That they left before anything else happened and they assumed I'd just let him sleep it off and let him go."

"You don't think your apparent ability to shave and pierce someone would counter that? Not to mention your skill at crucifying."

"I figured between being blond, the Cheerios outfit and Coach Sylvester I'd be fine," Brittany replies.

Rachel stares at Brittany for a full minute. The blonde knows because she counts. She braces herself for judgments.

"We should definitely pull a prank together, sometime," Rachel says.

"Awesome."

**…**

Santana feels slightly better after she talks with Brittany. She owes her girl an apology. Hopefully Rachel will hear her out. She also wonders when Brittany became so insightful. Probably Rachel. It's certainly the reason Brittany used the word laconic the other day.

The entire situation is fucked up; the revenge felt great, but it wasn't worth all this. The sooner it's over, the better Santana will feel. She'd try apologizing tonight, but Santana's not sure if she'd be well received. She'll just stop by before school and try then.

**…**

Santana couldn't sleep any longer, so even though it's only five in the morning, she's dressed and heading over to the Berry house. She hopes they'll have enough time to fight, apologize and have make up sex before school. Rachel will try to argue she needs to exercise and Santana will counter that sex is definitely an aerobic activity and they'll banter back and forth until Rachel feigns reluctance and gives in.

Except when she gets there, Santana finds Rachel isn't alone in bed. She can't tell who it is exactly, because the pair is buried under the blankets, but it is definitely obvious that there are two people in bed.

Beyond angry, Santana stalks over to the bed and rips the covers off.

Only to find Rachel and Brittany, adorably intertwined and blinkingly looking up at her.

"San?" Brittany asks. "What's going on?"

"You're rather early," Rachel manages, yawning.

"How do you figure that? Maybe you two just overslept."

"I have an excellent internal clock, Santana, you know that," Rachel says. "Also? It's still kind of dark out."

"Rach's alarm isn't going off for a while yet," Brittany yawns. She then tugs Santana until she falls on the bed and begins stripping her.

"She's right," Rachel adds, yanking off a shoe. "Might as well join the party."

"Fine." Santana shrugs them off and stands. She strips down to her underwear and slips in behind Rachel. "Aren't you mad at me?"

"Sleep," Rachel replies. "Cuddle now. Fight later."

**…**

When Rachel's alarm goes off almost two hours later, Rachel coaxes the other two out of bed and downstairs for some breakfast. All three munch on fruit and sip coffee, still not really speaking.

Brittany is waiting for the fighting to start; she knows it will, it's just a matter of when.

Santana is wary. While she's not glad that Rachel is completely ignoring her, she's still bracing herself for a fight. Though she can admit that the blame is evenly split this time; having time to cool off helps make some things more clear.

Rachel know she'll have to explain everything soon. She hopes Santana understands her reluctance, especially since now that she's had time to ponder everything, she feels that her actions were acceptable in the situation.

The trio leave for school in Santana's car, still relatively quiet. The drive there is spent listening to music Brittany has chosen and even though there's tension in the car, no one mentions it.

Before Santana and Brittany link pinkies and disappear on her, Rachel intertwines her fingers with Santana's and pulls her close.

"We'll talk over lunch?"

Santana nods.

"Good," Rachel says. She chastely kisses her and the gives Brittany a peck on the cheek before skipping into McKinley.

**…**

Rachel finds Noah and Tina, separately and thanks them in person. Both comment on her absence the day before, but she simply brushes it off as being sick. She's not sure if any of them believe her, but they let it go.

She's glad for this because she wants to put the entire incident behind them and possibly pretend like it never happened.

As soon as her discussion with Santana about it is over, she's never going to think about it again.

**…**

They decide to meet in Santana's car because it will afford them the most privacy.

Santana, to both their surprises, starts first.

"I might have over reacted yesterday," she admits. "It's just… I'm still so pissed off about what he did. Even back then, I was; I just didn't fully understand why. And thinking that you were over there, making nice with him, was just too much for me."

"I should have explained everything more clearly," Rachel replies. "I felt guilty about the means I used to ensure Jesse wouldn't call the police. And I wasn't ready to talk about it."

"Why would you feel guilty?"

"Because I told him I poisoned the cookies," Rachel says. "He ate several right away just as I assumed he would. And then, when he wouldn't listen to reason, I threw some crazy in there. It worked, but I'm not particularly proud of what I did."

"Oh."

"Most of the time, I love being a secretive badass, your secretive badass, but this time, I was worried I went too far. Protecting you, Noah and Brittany is definitely a valid reason, but I was just afraid I crossed a line."

"And you needed time to think about it," Santana finishes.

"I did," Rachel nods.

"Not to be critical, but then why did you come over? Why didn't you just go home and crash?"

"I wanted to see you," Rachel replies. "I hadn't seen you all day and I guess I missed you."

"Awww."

"It's so stupid," Rachel sulks. "I should be able to go a whole day without seeing you."

"But what if I don't want you to?"

"I don't want to either," Rachel says. "But I should be able to."

"What happened to us making it up as we go along?" Santana asks. "If you wanna see me, then you see me. It should be that simple."

"I thought we didn't want to become too codependent," Rachel points out.

"Maybe not," Santana shrugs. "But it's already happened, so might as well embrace it. Right?"

"I guess."

"So are we done fighting?" Santana asks. "Can we move on to the hot make up sex?

Rachel chuckles. "Do we have enough time?" They both check the dashboard clock.

"We'll _make_ time," Santana says.

"I cannot miss anymore classes due to your sexual needs."

"Hey, you started it."

"_You_ started it."

"I'm pretty sure it was you, Berry."

"Keep this up and I'm exiting this car immediately."

"No way," Santana replies. "You want it as bad as me."

"Shut up and kiss me already."

**…**

Friday night Puck drags Rachel to a party. He tells her it's been way too long since they've _truly_ partied together. Rachel points out they've never really partied together.

"Then that's something we've got to change, bro," Puck replies. "I got some excellent booze and it's super close to your house so we can just walk back. We both can totally get our drink on."

"You know I'm not an enthusiastic beer drinker, Noah."

"I've got you covered bro. Trust me."

"Did you seduce the woman at the liquor store?"

"No. But I did bang the sister of a guy who works at the liquor store," Puck answers.

"Never change, Noah."

**…**

Noah drags Rachel into the kitchen when they arrive. He mixes her a drink and opens an expensive looking bottle of beer and stashes the rest deep in the refrigerator.

"Just try it," he shouts over the music.

Tentatively she takes a sip. It's not bad.

"Well?"

"It's drinkable."

"That'a girl," Noah says, dragging her into the living room.

"What is this?"

"The chick called it After Five," Noah shouts. "She said it was good for people who don't drink much."

Noah sees some jocks he has to carouse with and so Rachel sinks onto the couch. Sipping her drink, she looks around. Mike catches her eye and waves. She waves back. It isn't too long before she, Mike, Artie and Tina are conversing, taking up the whole couch.

Maybe it's the liquor talking, but Rachel's having a good time. Sure she's not necessarily talking to anyone _new_, but no one's tried to bully her or anything, so she's considering that progress.

"Treasure Trail!"

It seems she spoke too soon, or whatever.

Rachel, Mike, Tina and Artie look up at an irate Quinn Fabray.

"Yes Quinn?"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"In attempt to avoid stating the obvious, what does it look like?"

"You know what?" Quinn says. "I'm sick of you and your attitude."

"You're allowed your opinion Quinn."

"Just because you're willing to let Santana do whatever the hell she wants to you in bed, you think you have all the power at school?"

"Uh…"

"No fucking way, Stubbles," Quinn continues. "I rule McKinley. And I will until the day I graduate. I had a fucking baby and I'm still top dog. You date a multitude of popular people and you're still just one step up from JewFro."

"Once again, Quinn, you're allowed your opinion."

"No. No more of that patronizing BS you've been giving me. You and me are throwing down."

"We're what?"

"She's challenging you," Artie whispers.

"Oooh, like a duel?" Rachel whispers back. "How very-"

"Pay attention Midget," Quinn interrupts. "So are we doing this?"

"Of course."

"Good."

"With conditions," Rachel says.

"What? No way in hell-"

"Then I won't participate, Quinn," Rachel replies. "It doesn't matter to me. This is only important to you."

"You're a manipulative little bitch, you know that, right?"

"Hey kettle? This is the pot. You're black."

"So what's the challenge going to be?" Tina interrupts before Quinn strangles Rachel.

"Rapiers at dawn?" Rachel suggests.

"Don't be ridiculous, Johnny 5. With your knowledge of most things sharp, I'm not letting you near me with a sword."

Well, I'm sure we can come up with something appropriate that we can execute Monday," Rachel says.

"No way, we're doing this here and now," Quinn snaps.

"We're at a party. What would you suggest Quinn?"

The head Cheerio glances around the room frantically before finally saying, "A drinking contest."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Fine," Rachel replies after an intense stare down.

"Quinn challenging Rachel to a drinking contest is like a cow challenging a horse to a standing upright contest," Mike quips.

"Did you just call me fat?" Quinn growls.

"Course not."

"Dude, your metaphors suck," Artie says.

"_Your_ metaphors suck," Mike replies.

"That makes no sense," Artie tells him.

"You make no sense."

"Both of you be quiet," Tina says. "I gotta see this."

They all stand and follow Rachel who is following Quinn into the kitchen.

"What do you suggest we drink?" Rachel asks.

And suddenly out of nowhere, Puck appears. He wraps his arms around them both. "Looking for alcohol suggestions? I'm your man."

"Get your hands off me manwhore. I've challenged Berry to a drinking contest."

Puck laughs. Loudly. After a moment, Rachel punches him in the shoulder and he stops.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"We're listening."

"Irish Car Bombs," Puck says. "It'll decide a victor very quickly."

"You can't be serious man," Mike says. "That'll annihilate them both."

"It'll decide a winner very quickly," Puck agrees. "I figured that would make both ladies happy."

"I just want to get this ridiculousness over with," Rachel adds.

"Afraid, Berry?"

"Course not, _Fabray_," Rachel replies. "It's just I have better things to do than deal with you tonight."

"Yeah, like her girlfriend," Brittany pipes up behind Rachel.

"Hey, Britt."

"Whatcha guys doing?"

"Quinn challenged Rachel to a drinking contest," Tina tells her.

"Awesome. Can I join in?"

Rachel shrugs. "If you want."

"I don't see the harm," Quinn agrees.

"Okay. Three Irish Car Bombs. Coming up," Puck says, gleefully.

By now a small crowd has gathered as each girl sits at the kitchen table. Everyone watches as Puck pours three mugs of Guinness and three shot glasses with Bailey's and Jamieson. He sets each pair in front of each girl.

"Okay, for those who don't know. You drop the shot in the beer and chug. And the longer it takes, the worse it tastes because the Bailey's curdles. We'll do as many rounds as it takes before someone backs down. Any questions?"

"This isn't vegan is it?" Rachel asks.

"You're gonna use your stupid diet as an excuse, Man Hands?"

"Fine, Quinn, you're going down," Rachel says quietly.

"Okay then. Three. Two. One. Drink."

The crowd watches as all three girls drop the shots into the mugs and begin drinking.

Brittany finishes first, which no one is surprised about. Rachel is second and _that_ they do find surprising. Quinn is just a gulp behind her though and slams her mug down just a moment after Rachel.

"Round two!" someone shouts.

They push their glasses forward and Puck begins making more.

"That was extremely unpleasant," Rachel says as she watches Puck pour Guinness.

"Backing down, are we Berry?"

"As if I'd hand victory over to you so easily."

"I've been drinking a lot longer than you have."

"And I've been taught by the best," Rachel replies, pointing to Puck.

"Round two, ladies." Puck pushes the glasses and shots towards them. "Three. Two. One. Drink."

Once again, all three girls drop the shot in the glass and begin chugging. Brittany finishes first with Rachel just behind her as Quinn is still just a gulp behind.

"What the fuck is going on?" Santana asks, pushing through the crowd.

"It's like that show, _Man vs. Food_, except you know, with alcohol," Finn explains. "And more people."

"Quinn challenged Rachel," Tina tells Santana.

"And the only thing she could think of was a drinking contest," Artie continues.

"But then they were both stupid," Mike adds. "And let Puck pick the poison."

Quinn looks rather green as Puck mixes another round. Just as he's pouring the Jamieson onto the Bailey's, she jumps up and runs out of the room.

"One down," Puck announces. "Finish this and you're the winner, bro." He pushes the glass and shot towards Rachel and Brittany.

While Brittany grabs for both, Rachel can only stare. Silence actually falls over the kitchen as they try to figure out what she's doing.

"I can't," Rachel says finally. "I…just can't. Bad idea."

As she's saying this, Brittany finishes her and slams down the mug.

"Suck it loser," she crows.

"Britt be nice to me," Rachel groans. "I'm very, very, very, very, very-" Brittany smacks her on the back. "Drunk."

Now that the show is over, the crowd begins to disperse.

"And neither Quinn or Rachel won," Mike points out.

"Quinn's gonna be pissed later," Tina says.

"Son of a bitch!" Santana exclaims. "She's going to be a colossal bitch until this gets figured out."

"Well then she should have waited until she was sober to suggest anything," Puck says.

"San? Is that you?" Rachel calls out.

"Course it is, babe."

"I'm drunk."

"I figured. Car Bombs will do that to a gal, especially one who doesn't drink."

"And I didn't win," Rachel pouts.

"Ah, that's okay, babe," Santana replies. "You win at other things."

**…**

Rachel wakes up in a tangled mess of bodies feeling hung over. Looking around, she sees a bottle of water and some aspirin on her side table. If she could only reach them over the pile of people she's wrapped up in.

Five awkward minutes later, she's free and feeling more hung over. She pops four aspirin and drinks most of the water before crawling back into the huddle and falling asleep.

**…**

"It's not over," Brittany says later while the four eat breakfast.

"Of course not," Santana adds. "Q can't let things go. It's almost like she enjoys beating a dead horse."

"Where would Quinn get a horse?" Brittany asks.

"I agree actually," Rachel says. "But I'm not going to worry about it. I'm not scared of Quinn."

"You shouldn't," Puck says. "Not with us getting your back."

"Yes, well, as comforting as that may be, please don't kidnap and shave Quinn. I'm not sure she'd do well bald."

Santana starts laughing. "Sorry. I just pictured it."

"Coach would have a fit," Brittany adds.

**…**

During lunch on Monday, Quinn seeks out Rachel. She finds her having lunch with Artie, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes and Brittany.

"We still have a score to settle, Dwarf," Quinn says.

"I would think your vomit would make me the winner," Rachel replies. " _I_ at least managed to keep it all down. You didn't."

"Technically I won," Brittany interjects. "I drank three. You guys only had two."

"I suppose that's true, but it doesn't help with our current dilemma," Rachel tells Brittany.

"Oh. Right. How about pistols at dawn?"

"Tempting," Quinn says.

"I'd rather not kill Quinn, though, Brittany," Rachel says.

"How do you know I won't shoot you first?" Quinn asks.

"Oh Quinn, everyone knows that I'm better than you at _every_thing," Rachel smiles sweetly.

"Vicious little bitch," Quinn growls.

"You can dish it out, but not take it, eh, Fabray?" Rachel mocks.

"At least I speak the truth, Hobbit," Quinn snaps.

"What about a baking contest?" Tina interrupts before Quinn strangles Rachel.

"No."

"That would be unfair," Rachel adds. "My baking is near perfection."

Quinn scoffs.

"Jealously does not become you, Quinn."

"How about a silence contest?" Quinn suggests. "Whoever can keep quiet the longest winds."

"Seriously?"

"You're only suggesting that because you think Rachel talks too much," Brittany says.

"And?"

"Oooh, can we also have a staring contest?" Rachel asks, mockingly. "Or better yet we could thumb wrestle."

"Keep your sarcasm to yourself, Oompaloompa," Quinn snaps. "I don't hear you coming up with any ideas."

"Archery."

Everyone at the table just stares at her.

"For reals?" Mercedes asks.

"Why would we let you two near each other with weapons?" Kurt continues.

"Didn't you say, no sharp objects?" Artie finishes.

"Arrows certainly aren't the same as a rapier," Rachel tells them. "Besides, neither one of us knows how and it should be simple enough to determine who's won. Both are key elements to this competition."

"She's not wrong," Tina says.

"Especially," Rachel continues. "The more witnesses we have. If we get our fellow glee clubers to join us, say tomorrow at lunch, we can have this all decided in a mere twenty-four hours time."

"Fine," Quinn agrees."

"Good. I'll let everyone know to be outside tomorrow for lunch," Rachel says.

**…**

"You're seriously going to have an archery contest with Quinn?" Santana asks Rachel that evening.

"What choice do I have? She's not going to let it go, remember?"

"Still. Archery."

"I didn't hear you suggesting anything," Rachel replies.

"Hey, I'm staying out of this little grudge match," Santana replies. "Q's got this insane agenda and it's probably better if I just stay out of it."

"Wuss."

"Can you blame me?" Santana asks. "You two in complete bitch mode is way intense. Sometimes it's just easier to stay out of the way and enjoy the spectacle of carnage."

Rachel sighs. "I suppose that's true. Still, I'd appreciate it if your neutrality wasn't so apparent."

"I'm not wearing a Team Rachel t-shirt."

"What about a hat?"

"Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?"

**…**

Tuesday during third period, the glee kids all receive texts from Rachel reminding them they need to appear outside on the football field during lunch. It continues to say that if they don't show up, there will be dire consequences.

What Rachel doesn't realize is that there's no need to cajole the others to show up. Watching Quinn and Rachel go toe to toe is incredibly entertaining. Both Artie and Tina plan on bringing popcorn, in fact. Puck is taking bets on who'll win this whole crazy competition; it's fairly close.

**…**

"So how are we doing this, Berry?" Quinn asks once everyone arrives.

It's lunchtime and everyone is gathered on the football field. Rachel has set up two targets and measured out what she feels is an appropriate distance for beginners. She has a large quiver of arrows and two bows.

The other glee members are surrounding them in a semi circle, anxious to see the drama unfold.

"I procured these instructions for us, if you would just read over this one, I will do the same with mine," Rachel replies.

Both quickly scan over the information. Brittany reads them over Rachel's shoulder.

"That's it?" Quinn exclaims, once she's done with the two page packet.

"It's enough to keep us from injuring ourselves or others or damaging anything," Rachel explains.

"I didn't see you with any suggestions," Santana says.

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

"Quinn, if you don't wish to do this, I'm sure we can find another way to-"

"Save it, Berry. It's fine."

"So I think it's best if we each get five shots. We can both go at the same time and compare."

"Fine."

Quinn picks up a bow and experiments with it, getting use to holding it. She then grabs an arrow and steps up to the line. Rachel does the same.

"Whenever you're ready, Quinn," Rachel says. "We don't need to shoot at the same time."

"Shut up, Berry. I'm trying to concentrate."

"My apologies then."

As Quinn continues to attempt her bow and aim, Rachel calmly draws back the bow and lets go. Seeing this out of the corner of her eye, Quinn mutters to herself as she quickly lets go.

Both girls hit the target, neither near the center. Both repeat the process; though Quinn takes longer to aim and fire, while Rachel does the entire process smoothly, but incredibly slowly. It's a strange thing to watch.

When all five arrows have been shot, everyone looks to the bullseyes. None are near the center. And while the arrows aren't mirror images of each other, each target looks oddly like the other.

"There's no clear winner," Tina says.

"I agree," Rachel says.

"What?" Quinn exclaims. "This arrow is closer to the target than yours."

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "But this one of mine is closer than that one of yours. Wouldn't you say?"

Everyone murmurs their agreement.

"Fine," Quinn huffs. "We'll try something else."

Rachel pulls out the arrows and everyone walks back to bows.

"Can I try?" Brittany asks.

"Of course."

Everyone quickly moves behind the line as Brittany picks up a bow and arrow. She copies what she saw Quinn and Rachel do and then lets go.

The arrow lands with a thump next to the bullseye.

"Is that good?" Brittany asks.

Rachel smacks Brittany on the arm. "You know it is," she whispers.

"Holy shit," Puck mutters.

"How'd you do that?" Mercedes asks.

Brittany shrugs. "I just aimed it at the target. Does this mean I win? Again?"

Rachel shakes her head. "What else should we attempt, Quinn?"

Still a bit dazed by Brittany's shot, Quinn just mumbles, "I don't know. Something simple."

"What about a javelin throwing contest?" Mike suggests.

"What?"

"I can get us some and we can do it after school."

"What about glee?" Kurt asks.

"We'll just have a shortened practice," Rachel says

"Who are you?" Mercedes asks.

"And what have you done with Rachel Berry?" Kurt finishes.

"There's nothing we need to prepare for," Rachel explains. "And it shouldn't take too long. And the sooner this is over, the better. Right?"

Everyone mumbles half heartedly in agreement since they're enjoying the spectacle.

"All right then," Rachel says. "It's settled. Here after school. Mike will get the javelins?"

He nods.

"Okay. Until then, Quinn," Rachel says.

The group splits up and enjoys the rest of their lunch period.

**…**

"I still can't believe we're skipping glee," Santana says to Rachel as they walk towards the field.

"We're not skipping it completely," Rachel points out. "Besides, Quinn isn't going to let this go until it's been decided. And the sooner she backs off, the better."

"Did anyone tell Mr. Schue?" Brittany asks.

"He'll figure it out when no one shows," Rachel replies. "Besides, he's never on time. We might actually beat him there, still."

Mike, Puck and Finn are already there when they arrive. There are two javelins on the ground and a white line drawn.

"Hey guys."

"Thanks for getting those," Rachel tells Mike.

"No prob. No one's using them at the moment, anyway."

When everyone's finally there, Rachel lays out the plan.

"We'll take turns and the farthest one wins. We each get two throws. Is that all right with you, Quinn?"

"Sounds fine. I'm going first."

She grabs a javelin, measures off some steps and readies herself. They all watch as Quinn takes several running steps and releases. It's wobbly, but flies. It lands several yards away. She then picks up the second one and repeats the process. This one goes a bit further.

"So now what?" Puck asks.

"Simple," Rachel replies. "We keep the farthest one out there and I use the other."

"But you get two throws," Finn points out.

"I realize this Finn," Rachel replies. "If my first shot is short, I'll just retrieve it and retry. If it sails past Quinn's, I won't need a second shot."

"Oh. Right." Finn trots out and grabs the closest javelin.

Rachel accepts it from him and measures out her steps. She too takes several running steps and releases. It's less wobbly, but lacks height, so it falls short of Quinn's.

Finn runs out and retrieves it.

Rachel's second shot is done with a more determined look. It sails through the air smoothly and lands just past Quinn's.

Santana and Puck let out a whoop of joy as a smile develops on Rachel's face.

"No way," Quinn interrupts.

"Don't be bitter, Fabray," Santana says. "We can all see it went further."

"So what?" Quinn counters. "Her foot went over the line, so it's a foul."

"It certainly did not," Rachel replies. "It touched the line, but did not go over."

"Your foot isn't even supposed to touch the line, Berry. The last throw doesn't count."

"Then she gets another one," Finn suggests.

"That's not how it works, _Finn_," Quinn snaps. "We each get two throws. No extra."

"Your foot is allowed to touch the line as long as it doesn't go over, Quinn," Rachel says.

"It isn't."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"It is."

"It-"

"Oh my god," Kurt interrupts. "We'll just figure something else out. It's not like we haven't already."

"Yeah. I can't listen to you two argue anymore," Mercedes adds.

The others nod.

"Whatever," Quinn growls.

"Fine," Rachel agrees. "We better attend glee practice before Mr. Schue thinks we've all quit."

"He wouldn't think that, would he?" Finn asks as they start walking.

"Who cares?" Santana grumbles.

"Mr. Schue is very hard to read," Artie says.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "He doesn't have any words on him anywhere."

Part 2

"Nobody's leaving," Quinn announces once the abbreviated glee rehearsal is over.

"What now, Fabray?" Puck asks.

"We need another competition."

"Why?" Finn asks. "Let's just call it a draw."

"A tie settles nothing," Quinn tells him. "We need a clear winner."

"Brittany obviously won the archery contest," Mike points out.

"She doesn't count."

"How about bowling?" Finn suggests.

"Stupid."

"Fencing," Mike tries.

"I'm not letting that freak near me with anything sharp," Quinn says.

"Technically the foil is incredibly dull," Rachel says. "For safety."

"No swords."

"Pictionary," Artie throws out.

"Scrabble," Tina offers.

"Pictionary? Really?"

"What about trivia?" Puck asks. "You're both smart chicks."

"We're not playing Trivia Pursuit," Quinn snaps.

"What about a Jeopardy type contest?" Santana asks. "Whoever answers the most questions wins?"

"We could make it like real Jeopardy," Tina adds. "We can assign monetary value to questions and then at the end whoever has the most wins."

"I'm not opposed to that," Rachel says.

"I guess that's okay."

"So what?" Artie questions. "Someone brings in their Trivia Pursuit board?"

"Certainly not," Rachel replies. "If we're going to do this, we're doing this right. Everyone, but Quinn, myself and Brittany will come up with 3 questions tonight. And then tomorrow during lunch, we'll commence. We'll have… Mike be the host."

"Why me?"

"Why isn't Brittany coming up with questions?" Tina asks.

"She's going to be the third contestant," Rachel answers.

"Why?" Quinn asks.

"Because she was going to ask anyhow."

"That's true, I was," Brittany agrees.

"And I picked you Mike because you will be the fairest."

Mike nods and blushes slightly.

"So Noah and Santana will come up with six questions in the same category, their choice. Kurt and Finn. Mike and Mercedes. Tina and Artie. Sound good?"

Everyone nods.

"Whatever topic you guys want, but please don't have it be too obscure," Rachel continues. "We'll meet here during lunch and settle this once and for all."

"Agreed," Quinn says.

**…**

Brittany ends up hanging out with Rachel that evening. Santana and Puck are creating questions, so in fairness, Rachel figures it would be the most fair to stay away.

Neither girl minds. It's been a while since they've hung out. Rachel insists they do their homework first and then they settle down to watch a movie.

**…**

When everyone arrives in the choir room for lunch, it's obvious that Rachel's already been hard at work. In one corner are three podiums. On each one is a random item. The whiteboard looks like a modified Jeopardy board, just lacking categories. There's a swivel chair just to the right of the podiums.

"All right everyone," Rachel says. "I think we can get this figured out rather quickly. If everyone wants to write their category over one column, that would help. You can then write what dollar amount you want each question to be worth. Quinn, Brittany and I will stay out of it."

"What's this for Rach?" Brittany asks, holding up a cow bell.

"Those are our buzzers," Rachel replies. "I concluded it would be easier to distinguish if we each had distinctly different sounds."

"I get the cow bell," Brittany says.

"Quinn? Would you like the bike horn or the bell?"

"I'll take the bell, Berry."

Brittany claims the very left podium, Quinn the middle and Rachel the right. It only takes about five minutes for everyone to assemble everything. The categories are written on the board, Mike has a handful of index cards and everyone else is sitting on the risings watching.

The three contestants turn around to check out the categories. Fandom. That has to be Tina and Artie's. Music. Potpourri. And history?

"Whose category is history?" Quinn asks.

"Ours," Puck says, raising his hand.

"You're shitting me," Quinn laughs. "You and Santana came up with challenging _history_questions?"

"Just because we don't feel the need to study, doesn't mean we're stupid, Fabray," Santana growls.

"Whatever, Lopez."

"Okay," Mike interrupts. "I'm thinking of a number between one and ten and whoever is closest can go first."

"Two," Rachel guesses.

"Twelve," Brittany says.

"Eight," Quinn tries.

"It was seven," Mike tells them. "So Quinn is first."

"I'll take _history_for… six hundred," she says.

"This occurred between January 17th, 1920 and December 5th, 1933," Mike reads.

Surprisingly, the cow bell is heard first.

"Brittany," Mike acknowledges.

"What is Prohibition?"

"Correct."

"Who's keeping score?" Tina asks.

"Do you mind doing it?" Rachel asks.

"Not at all," Tina replies, pulling out a notebook. She writes Brittany, Rachel and Quinn on the top and writes $600 under Brittany's name.

Once she's ready, Mike continues. "Brittany, you get to pick."

"Potpourri for two hundred, please Mike."

"The city of Wellington," Mike reads.

This time the bike horn is heard first.

"Yes, Rachel."

"What is the capital of New Zealand?"

"Correct."

"I'll take Fandom for six hundred."

"In the original Zelda, these are needed to defeat Ganon."

Once again, the bike horn is heard.

"What are silver arrows?"

"That is correct."

"Music for six hundred."

"With 22, they've won three times as many Grammys as Coldplay," Mike reads.

This time the bell is heard.

"Yes, Quinn?"

"Who is U2?" Quinn answers.

"Correct. Your pick, Quinn."

"History for one thousand."

"His rebellion gave strong impetus to the Constitutional Convention."

The cow bell rings.

"Who is John Adams?"

"Sorry, Britt, that's wrong."

The bell is heard next.

"Quinn."

"Who is Daniel Shay?"

"Correct."

"Potpourri for six hundred."

"Beatrice, Margaret, Hero and Claudio."

The bike horn squawks.

"Who are characters from _Much Ado About Nothing_?" Rachel answers.

"That is correct."

"Music for two hundred," Rachel picks.

"Each one has 36 black and 52 white."

Brittany clanks the cow bell again.

"Brittany."

"What is a piano?"

"Yes. Your pick, Brittany."

"History for two hundred."

"November 11th, 1918."

The bell rings.

"Quinn."

"What is Armistice Day?"

"Correct."

"Music for a thousand."

"Launched August 1st, 1981."

The bell rings again.

"Again, Quinn."

"What is MTV?"

"Correct."

"Fandom for a thousand."

"He is not a number. He is a person."

The cow bell gongs.

"Yes, Brittany."

"Who is The Prisoner?"

"That is correct," Mike says. "Pick again."

"Impressive," Artie whispers to Tina, who nods.

"Fandom for two hundred."

"Galen Tyrol, Helo, and Tom Zarek."

The bike horn sounds.

"Rachel?"

"Who are characters from Battlestar Galatica?"

"And the final question is from potpourri for one thousand," Mike announces. "This element is also known as Rh or 45."

Quinn rings the bell.

"What is Rhenium?"

"Incorrect, Quinn."

The cow bell gongs.

"Brittany."

"What is Rhodium?"

"How the hell does she know that?" Puck whispers to Santana.

"That is correct. Okay, let's take a five minute break and add up the scores," Mike says.

Everyone stands and stretches as Mike confers with Tina, though the contestants stay put.

"Ready for round two?" Mike asks after a moment.

Everyone finds their seats and waits for Mike to start.

"Okay, so after the first round," Mike begins. "Quinn and Brittany are tied for the lead with eighteen hundred while Rachel has sixteen hundred."

Since no one expected Brittany to be tied for the lead, _ever_, this declaration is met with silence.

"Since Brittany answered the last question correctly, I'm going to have her start."

"Uh, history for four hundred," Brittany tells him.

"He was shot on September 5th, 1901 at the Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, New York."

The bike horn honks.

"Rachel?"

"Who is William McKinley?"

"Correct."

"_Assassins_," Kurt whispers to Mercedes.

"Music for twelve hundred."

"This group has the most number one hits on the billboard charts with twenty."

The bell is rung.

"Quinn."

"Who are the Beatles?"

"That is correct. Pick a category."

"Um, potpourri for four hundred."

"Zero, one, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, and twenty-one."

The cow bell clanks.

"Brittany."

"What are the first nine numbers of the Fibonacci sequence?"

"Uh, did that just happen?" Mercedes whispers to Kurt. "Because I sure as hell didn't know that."

"Potpourri for two thousand."

"Jack Albertson, Yul Brynner, Shirley Booth, José Ferrer, Joel Gray, Rex Harrison, Anne Bancroft, and Paul Scofield," Mike reads.

The bike horn is heard.

"Yes, Rachel?"

"Who are the only eight actors who have won both an Oscar and a Tony for the same role?"

"Correct."

"Fandom for twelve hundred."

"He directed Star Trek V: The Final Frontier."

Rachel honks her horn.

"Rachel, again."

"Who is William Shatner?"

"Correct again. Chose again."

"Fandom for two thousand."

"This short story about time travel was first published by Ray Bradbury in 1952."

The bike horn goes off first.

"Again, Rachel."

"What is _A Sound of Thunder_?"

"Correct yet again."

"Potpourri for twelve hundred."

"On June 17th, 1939, Eugen Weidmann became the last man to be executed this way."

The bike horn squawks.

"Rachel."

"What is a guillotining?"

"That's not exactly what I was looking for."

Quinn rings her bell.

"Quinn."

"What is a _public_ guillotining?"

"That is correct."

"Suck it, Treasure Trail," Quinn whispers. "History for twelve hundred."

"He died May 5th, 1821 at the age of 52."

The bell rings first just before the bike horn honks.

"Quinn was first."

"Who is Napoleon Bonaparte?"

"That is correct."

"History for two thousand."

"They were married November 4th, 1677."

Brittany rings the cow bell.

"Brittany."

"Who are King William III and Queen Mary II?"

"Correct."

"Music for two thousand."

"The following are lyrics from the same titled song of this musical," Mike reads.  
><em>I'm crazy about the navy. I'm crazy about it too. We're in the pay of the USA doing duties we're proud to do<em>."

The bike horn honks just as Mike is finishing.

"What is _Dames at Sea_?"

"I told you, she'd get it," Mercedes growls to Mike.

"Hey, as far as obscure musicals go, that one's pretty good," Mike whispers back.

"He's right," Kurt adds.

"Music. Four hundred."

"_And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night_. What comes next?"

The cow bell is heard.

"Brittany."

"What is _And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might_?"

"Correct. And the final question is from Fandom for four hundred dollars," Mike says. "He was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster in 1932."

The cow bell is first.

"Brittany."

"Who is Superman?"

"Correct."

"Okay, we'll take a quick break and tally the scores."

"There's still final Jeopardy, everyone," Rachel calls out.

"Who wrote a question for that?" Mercedes asks.

"I made a special request for one," Rachel tells them, holding out an envelope.

"Who'd you get, Berry?"

"Coach Sylvester."

"You did not!"

"No way."

"I did indeed," Rachel nods. She holds the envelope for everyone to see. The name Sue Sylvester is hastily scrawled along the flap.

"You didn't ask Coach," Quinn accuses.

"Look closely, Quinn. Is that her signature?"

Quinn grabs the envelope and examines it. "Yeah," she agrees reluctantly. "It is."

"See."

"How do we know she didn't just tell you the answer?" Quinn presses.

"Because I don't win by cheating," Rachel replies. "I'd rather lose."

"I don't think she'd cheat," Tina offers.

"My girl's no charlatan," Santana growls.

Everyone turns and looks at her.

"What?"

"You are so hot right now," Rachel tells her.

"Arg! My ears! My ears!" Kurt moans.

"We have the scores after double Jeopardy," Mike interrupts.

"Finally," Mercedes mumbles.

"With five thousand, we have Brittany in third. With seven thousand, we have Quinn in second and leading with seventy-two hundred, we have Rachel."

Santana and Puck let out a loud whoop.

"Are we ready for final Jeopardy?" Mike asks.

Everyone nods. Mike hands each of them a piece of paper and a pen. "Write down your wagers."

They all write down a wager.

He then opens the envelope. "Okay the final Jeopardy category is… sports."

No one says anything, but the shock is very evident.

"Can someone time a minute after I finish reading the question?" Mike asks.

"I will," Artie volunteers.

"Okay. In 2006, he performed the first ever Double Backflip in competition, scoring a 98.6, the highest score in the Best Trick competition at the X Games."

No one was expecting a question like that. They can only watch as the three girls struggle to come up with an answer.

"That's a minute," Artie announces.

"Okay, Quinn, we'll start with you."

"I have no idea," she tells them.

"All right. And you wager?"

"All of it," Quinn says, holding up her paper.

"Which brings your score to zero," Mike informs her. "Rachel your answer?"

"I have no clue," Rachel says. "But I wagered it all."

"Oooh, that's unfortunate. That makes your score zero as well. That just leaves Brittany."

Brittany holds up her paper.

"Who is Pastrami?" Mike reads. "That's not quite the answer we were looking for. And your wager?"

"Two thousand," Brittany tells him.

"Bringing your score to three thousand, making you the winner."

Everyone starts clapping, except for Quinn who looks pissed. Rachel elbows her.

"You better clap or Santana will be pissed," she hisses.

"I'm not afraid of your stupid girlfriend."

"I know this means our little dispute isn't solved yet, but just clap, damnit."

Quinn reluctantly begins clapping.

"Hey, what was the answer?" Artie asks.

"Uh, who is Travis Pastrana?" Mike reads.

"So I was close," Brittany claims.

"Apparently."

"So now what?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah," Mercedes agrees. "We still don't have a winner."

"What about me?" Brittany asks.

"She meant, between Quinn and Rachel," Tina clarifies.

"Oh. True."

"What about arm wrestling?" Finn suggests.

"Yes, that could work," Rachel says. "We can do two out of three to makes sure there's less chance of unfairness."

"There's no way we're arm wrestling, Berry," Quinn growls. "We'll just have to think of something else."

"Such as?' Rachel questions. "Because I'm running out of ideas."

"I don't know. But I'll think of something."

**…**

The next day at lunch, the glee kids all sit together. It happens occasionally, so no one really harasses anyone about it, but they do garner a few stares.

What Rachel finds most odd is that they're apparently congregating to brainstorm ideas for another competition between herself and Quinn.

"You could have a contest to see who the bigger bitch is, Q," Brittany suggests. "You'd definitely win that."

Everyone else keeps quiet and looks at their food, hiding their smiles. No one else could get away with saying such a thing.

"What about a board game? Like Parcheesi?" Artie tries.

"Yeah," Finn agrees. "Or like Hearts."

"Hearts isn't a board game," Quinn snaps.

"And you need four people," Mike points out.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Mouse Trap," Brittany says.

"Chutes and Ladders," Finn tries.

"Twister," Puck suggests.

"You just want to stare at their asses, Puckerman," Santana snarls.

Puck shrugs. "So? They're both fine specimens. A man shouldn't be faulted for looking, admiring, appreciating-"

"Keep your eyes off my girlfriend's ass," Santana growls.

"So possessive."

"Can we please focus?" Rachel interrupts. "It'd be lovely if this whole thing was over."

"Afraid of losing, Berry?"

"Or maybe I'm sick of it," Rachel replies. "I already know how amazing I am. I certainly don't feel the need to prove it to _you_."

"You're lucky your protector is here, Berry," Quinn says. "Otherwise, you would be over."

"Your constant ability to over react is quite impressive, Quinn. Also? I could easily take you."

"Are you challenging me?"

"Chick fight," Puck whispers to Finn.

"Awesome."

"You guys can't do that," Brittany interjects. "Violence doesn't solve anything."

"Actually, kicking Berry's ass would solve _most_ of my problems," Quinn says.

"My girl would totally whoop your ass, Fabray," Santana replies. "Without even breaking a sweat."

"You mean she'll distracted me with her stupid owl sweater and you'll sneak up behind me and hit me with a frying pan?"

"Are we suddenly in a Bugs Bunny cartoon?" Tina whispers to Artie.

He shrugs.

"You don't want to be giving me any ideas, blondie."

"Where are you going to get a frying pan, S?" Brittany whispers loudly.

"Baseball bat would work too," Santana replies.

"I believe we're getting off topic here," Rachel interjects. "Maybe we should just brainstorm in our heads and not just shout out whatever enters our minds."

"Ah, what fun is that," Puck says.

"Eat your lunch, Noah."

**…**

Quinn walks into glee looking triumphant.

"Watch out, Rach," Brittany says. "Quinn's got another idea."

"I think we should do a gauntlet."

"What?" Finn asks.

"You're serious," Santana says.

"What sort of gauntlet?" Rachel asks.

"And who's going to be _in_ this gauntlet, Fabray?" Puck questions.

"You guys, would obviously be in the gauntlet," Quinn explains. "You've been there for most of the other stuff."

"It depends what you want us to do," Tina says.

"A slushie gauntlet."

This is met with silence.

"You're serious?" Mercedes questions.

"Of course. You all put on raincoats to protect from any splash," Quinn explains. "And then we'll see who can withstand more slushies."

"That suggest is even worse than the keeping quiet contest," Kurt says.

"Definitely," Artie adds.

"What? Why not? Come on you guys."

"Quinn," Rachel says standing. "While your little foray into the bottom half of the social circle last year may have given you a glimpse into what my high school experience has been, I'm not sure you're up to such a challenge."

"Anything you can do, I can do, Berry."

"I've been slushied a few hundred times, Quinn. You've been slushied maybe a dozen," Rachel continues. "First. Why would you want to put yourself through that? Second. Do you really think that _you_ could outlast _me_, in that arena? Think again."

"There's also the fact, that we refuse to participate," Puck adds.

"Yeah," Brittany says.

"I certainly couldn't," Kurt says.

"Me neither," Mercedes adds.

Quinn looks at everyone and sees them shaking their heads.

"Fine," she huffs, dropping into a chair. "I'll just have to come up with something else, then."

"Maybe you should just concede," Brittany suggests.

Quinn's so thrown from Brittany's word choice that she actually sputters for an answer until Mr. Schue shows up.

**…**

"I think Quinn's going to blow a gasket if this whole thing isn't settled soon," Rachel tells Santana as they drive to the Berrys' after glee.

"And you're not getting annoyed with the whole situation?"

"Of course I am," Rachel replies. "However, I am fully used to Quinn Fabray being on my case about _some_thing or another. This is just a different sort of irritation."

"Well, everyone else is certainly amused by it."

"And why wouldn't they be?" Rachel asks. "The entire situation is ludicrous. Never in a million years did I imagine I'd ever participate in a javelin throwing contest."

"Think of the stories you could tell later."

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "But once I leave high school, I want to give it as little thought as possible."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

**…**

Santana, currently sitting on Rachel's bed, stares at her girlfriend. She's been sitting at her computer for about twenty minutes now and Santana's confident that she's _not_ doing her homework like she said she was.

Silently slipping off the bed, Santana approaches Rachel and tries to peek at what she's doing, but is unable to make sense of the various screens she's quickly scrolling through. But she is _definitely_ not doing homework.

"What are you doing?" Santana asks, quietly.

Nonetheless, Rachel jumps slightly. "Nothing."

"C'mon babe, you can tell me."

"It's nothing. Really."

"What'd you worried about? It's just me."

"I'm setting up a prank I've been wanting to do for a long time now," Rachel replies.

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

"You'll just have to wait and see like usual," Rachel tells her. "But it took a while to figure out and set up, so I'm kind of excited."

"It has been a while since the McKinley Prankster has struck," Santana muses.

"This whole Quinn competition thing is rather distracting."

"Well, then tomorrow will be good times."

"Hopefully."

**…**

Thursday morning at exactly 9:09 a.m., every single person's cell phone in McKinley High School goes off, from students to teachers to the janitor to Principal Figgins.

The din of so many cell phones going off, continually for five full minutes is obscene. No one seems to know how to respond, though most attempt to turn their phones off. This doesn't work. Like those birthday candles that constantly relight, the cell phones simply turn back on again.

At exactly 9:14 a.m., the noise stops. Most people look at their phones in apprehension, afraid they'll start up again. Instead, everyone receives a text message.

_Life without an 'F' is a lie._

It's so out of context, no one knows what to think. The mass speculation makes it impossible for any teachers to regain control of their classes and for most, the rest of the period becomes free time.

**…**

"Listen up David the Gnome," Quinn says, smacking her hands onto the table in front of Rachel.

It's lunchtime on Friday and Rachel is calmly peeling a banana as she waits for her lunch companions.

"I've finally figured out what will decide that I am far superior to you."

"I can't wait to hear this," Kurt says as he and Mercedes sit.

"What's going on?" Brittany asks as she flops down next to Rachel.

"Quinn was just about to inform us about her newest plan to look inferior to me," Rachel explains.

"_Oh_. Okay."

"As I was saying," Quinn interjects. "I think we should have a pranking contest."

"Excuse me?"

"A pranking contest," Quinn repeats.

"Are you having déjà vu?" Brittany whispers to Rachel.

"I am indeed."

"You can't be serious," Mercedes says.

"Of course I am."

"I wonder where _that_ idea came from," Puck mutters as he and Mike sit down.

"I'm mildly disappointed in her," Mike whispers.

"You're weird dude," Puck whispers back.

"Do you really believe that to be a good idea, Quinn?" Rachel asks.

"Listen, Troll, I know you think you're cool now because your girlfriend is a colossal bitch and your _bro_ is a self proclaimed badass, but you're not."

"No one knows who the McKinley Prankster is though," Kurt points out.

"It could be Rachel," Brittany adds.

"Except it's not."

"How do you know?" Rachel asks, fighting a smirk.

"Because I do."

"What do you know?" Mike asks.

"That Rachel isn't the McKinley Prankster," Brittany supplies.

"Oh. Why?"

"Apparently Quinn thinks she can out prank Ms. Berry here," Kurt explains. "I personally just think she's running out of competition ideas."

"Of course I am, Kurt," Quinn replies. "But I picked this because it'll be fun and I'll easily beat RuPaul."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Tina says as she sits next to Kurt.

"Yeah, you've been constantly underestimating Rachel," Artie adds as he rolls up. "And that's why there's still no clear cut winner."

"You're all going to gang up on me, then?"

"No, of course not, Quinn," Rachel says. "It's a wonderful idea."

"Don't patronize me, Tweedle Dee."

"_I_ think it's awesome," Puck adds.

"No one cares what you think, Puckerman," Quinn snaps.

"Brittany," Rachel says. "Why don't you get Santana here? And Puck can get Finn. And then we'll figure out the ground rules. Hopefully this ridiculousness will all be settled by next week."

Both pull out their cell phones and begin texting.

"Why do we need to summon them?" Quinn asks.

"Witnesses are essential Quinn," Rachel tells her. "Also, since I'm sure our fellow glee clubbers will be the ones that will be scoring us, I believe everyone should be present for the initial decision making."

A moment later, Finn appears and slumps at the end of the table. Santana is suddenly simply behind Rachel, resting her hands on her shoulders.

"You're seriously going to have a pranking contest?" Santana smirks. "This should be interesting."

"And no cheating," Quinn says.

"I can only say this so many times, Quinn," Rachel replies. "I. Do. Not. Cheat. I don't believe in it. Nor do I need to."

"All right smug-erella," Quinn says. "I'm serious though."

"Rachel doesn't need any help," Brittany interjects. "She thinks up crazy stuff all by herself."

"Thanks, Britt."

"Whatever, Fabray," Santana says. "I won't be giving my girl any assistance. I promise."

"Puckerman?"

"Hey, Rach definitely doesn't need my help," Puck replies. "Trust me."

"Good, now that that's settled," Rachel says. "Let's get down to specifics. I think the best way to do this is for both of us to set up something this weekend. That way on Monday, both of our pranks will be evident, but ideally, no one should know who pulled what. It should make scoring more fair. And then you guys, can score each prank on a scale of one to ten. Tuesday, we'll add the scores up. Whoever has the higher one wins."

"That seems simple enough," Quinn replies.

"Everyone else agree?" Rachel asks.

There are nods and murmurs of agreements.

"Excellent. That being decided," Rachel says as she turns to face Quinn fully. "You are going to lose."

"Ha! Like I'm afraid of little miss goodie two shoes here."

"You should be," Brittany says. "You really should be."

No one says anything for a moment as they all stare at the blonde.

"Just when I think I've figured you out, Brittany," Tina says. "You throw me for a loop again."

"Yay," Brittany says. "Loops are fun."

**…**

"That cell phone thing was insane," Puck says that evening as he and Rachel enjoy a bro night. "I'm beyond impressed."

"Thank you Noah," Rachel replies. "Though you say that nearly every time, so I fear it's losing its impact."

"I can't help it. You keep stepping up your game. Just when I think I've seen it all, you pull something else. I'm not sure which is more awesome, the ideas you come up with or that you're actually able to pull them off. I mean, how the hell did you get everyone's cell to ring at once?"

"A lot of work and preparation," Rachel replies. "It was more difficult obtaining everyone's number than actually making them ring. Once I had the numbers, it was just a matter of setting it up."

"Would it be too much if I called you my fucking hero?"

"Must you curse while you compliment me?"

"Hell yeah." Puck opens another beer. "So what are you going to do for your little competition with Quinn?"

"I've got an idea or two."

"I bet you do. You need help?"

"I believe outside help was expressly forbidden," Rachel replies. "And while I'm fairly certain Quinn will seek some anyway, I will not be. Just as I said before, I do not cheat. While it may take a bit more effort, I will be doing this by myself."

"Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me," Puck says.

"I prefer to keep the voting as fair and unbiased as possible."

"If only your sense of fairness was matched in others."

"The world _would_ be a better place if people were more like me," Rachel says. "It's nice that you agree, Noah."

Puck groans. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I notice you didn't disagree with my statement," Rachel smirks.

**…**

Sunday afternoon, Quinn begins preparing to break into McKinley and set up her prank. There's a number of materials to gather and she still isn't sure if her idea to get into school is actually going to work. She wonders how in the hell the prankster does. Probably stole a key at one point.

Quinn's plan is much less impressive. In the gym is a hidden side door with a broken door lock. So instead, it has a chain wrapped between the door handles with a pad lock. Quinn bought the exact same lock and plans to simply cut the current one and replace it with the one she bought. Hopefully it's not too difficult to use bolt cutters. She's grateful that her father apparently had some and left them behind.

**…**

Sunday evening, after dinner, Finn is just about to start up his Xbox when his cell rings.

"Yeah," he says, without looking.

"It's Quinn. We're going on a little errand. Get out here now."

"Ah, Quinn, now that we're not dating, you don't really get to boss me around anymore."

"Get your ass out here, now, Hudson. Or else you'll be _very_ sorry," Quinn threatens.

"I'm, uh, not afraid of you."

"You should be. If you're not outside in five minutes, you will be very, _very_ miserable in fifteen. Understand?"

"Five minutes. Got it."

**…**

"I still don't understand why it has to be me," Finn complains for the fifth time.

Two hours later, they're knee deep in the materials needed for Quinn's prank.

"Because no one else will," Quinn replies. "And I'm not losing to that freak because she's managed to lure away _my_ friends with sex and beer."

"What about Brittany?"

"Sex!"

"Oh man, really? Jesus." Finn gets a far off look on his face.

"Just keep painting."

"I still don't understand why you need my help," Finn says. "And I thought you were supposed to do this alone."

"Like Man Hands won't have help," Quinn grumbles. "She could probably get everyone, but Kurt and Mercedes to help her. And _that's_ only because she wouldn't ask them for help."

"I bet she won't, though."

"She'll have some help," Quinn insists. "She's too short. Unless her prank involves over waxing the floor or something."

"That's the worst idea I've heard yet."

"Like you're some sort of pranking genius."

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Finn tries. "I mean, I know nobody believes me, but Rach _is_ the Prankster."

"You're right," Quinn replies. "No one believes you."

"It's the only thing that makes sense," he insists.

"Perhaps in your tiny brain, but the rest of us exist in reality," Quinn tells him. "And I refuse to believe that Rachel Freaking Berry is anything, but a short singing freak."

"Who's dating the most popular girl in school."

"Did you just imply that Santana is more popular than me?" Quinn growls.

"What? No. Of course not," Finn replies, hastily. "I just meant that as a Cheerio, Santana is popular."

"I think this should be quiet time, now," Quinn orders.

Looking frightened, Finn just nods.

**…**

Rachel, despite probably needing it, has no intention of having anyone assist her. Knowing Quinn will probably go sometime in the late evening, she decides to go in around two in the morning. Darkness helps her prank immensely anyway. The late time is to ensure that she doesn't run into Quinn; Rachel knows it's possible that Quinn underestimated how long setting things up will take. She remembers the first prank she pulled that required an overnight visit, it took a bit longer than she anticipated. However, it soon became just another thing she excelled at.

Three hours later, she's exhausted, but satisfied. She's not sure where the idea came from or the energy to execute it, but she's pleased. Having stumbled onto Quinn's prank, she'll have to say she's somewhat impressed with the creativity, but has no idea how the others will see it. Rachel can't say for sure that she'll win, but this one will definitely be memorable.

**…**

Monday morning, Figgns groans to himself when he sees his office. Once again his windows are painted. He's beginning to regret the design of his office. Stepping closer, he examines the paint. It's a bunch of garish and bright circus images. He sees a lion tamer, clowns and a circus tent. He then looks up and sees the contents of his office; thousands of little multicolored plastic balls.

Without stepping foot inside, he goes in search of maintenance.

**…**

It isn't until later and he's watching his office be emptied of balls, that Figgins realizes there are other problems in his school. His secretary has apparently been fielding complaints of theft in the building. He'd ignored her grumbles of having no place to sit when he first arrive, but now it's become impossible to dismiss.

It seems that _every single_ chair in the building is missing. From his office chair to the chairs in the teacher's lounge to the stools in the Chemistry labs. Any chair that wasn't bolted down or attached to something else is gone. And there seems to be no sign of them.

Figgins really hates Mondays.

**…**

It's a bit chaotic when the students of McKinley arrive. Figgins still isn't sure what to do. He has contingency plans for fires, bomb threats, drugs and gun violence, but nothing for chair stealage.

And the problem wasn't fully realized in time to come up with a plan, well, a good plan.

Instead, they're simply ignoring the problem. So while the janitor begins removing the paint from the glass, he tells his staff to pretend that not having any chairs is perfectly normal.

Also, no one can figure out where the chairs actually disappeared to.

**…**

When Rachel arrives at school with Santana and Brittany, a crowd has already begun to form in the parking lot. The trio join the multitude in looking up. When they see what everyone else is seeing, Santana begins laughing.

"I take it, you approve," Rachel comments, wryly.

"I should be more annoyed with you," Santana replies. "Who the hell wants to stand all day?"

"I think it's funny," Brittany says. "People are gonna be weird."

"Weirder."

They turn to find Puck standing next to them.

"When you do something, you do it to the extreme, don't you?"

"Things aren't worth doing half way," Rachel replies.

"So I get to sit while the rest of you have to stand all day," Artie says, joining them.

"Yes, you can mock us for our crazy standing ways," Tina says, standing next to him.

"Quinn's going to be really pissed," Brittany points out.

"Why's that?" Puck asks.

"Because whatever she did is already getting over shadowed by Rachel's."

"That'll teach her to underestimate my girl," Santana says.

"Yeah, cause extra bitchy Quinn is _so_ much fun to deal with," Puck mutters.

**…**

The glee kids have lunch in the choir room because sitting on the risers is better than nothing. Rachel even took the piano bench.

"Great trick, bro," Puck says. "But it has a negative effect on me, which I do not approve of."

"If one wants something awesome, one must accept there are sometimes unwanted consequences."

"I think we should just end this here and now," Santana says. "I mean, both pranks have already been pulled, so scoring has already happened."

"We agreed to vote tomorrow," Rachel protests.

"Isn't it better to do it now?" Tina asks. "This whole thing has dragged on for far too long."

"Well that's for damn sure," Kurt mutters.

"Yeah, I say we do it now," Mercedes says.

"You afraid you're going to lose, Berry?"

"Hardly," Rachel scoffs. "I simply like to stick to a schedule."

"Screw the schedule," Puck says. "Let's do this."

"Fine," Rachel says. "Everyone pull out a piece of paper. Write a score for myself and Quinn. Make sure you differentiate between the two. And then fold it and set it on the piano."

Everyone but Quinn and Rachel do so. It doesn't take long and soon there are nine slips of notebook paper sitting on the piano.

Rachel then stands and walks to the whiteboard. She writes "Rachel" and "Quinn" on the board. She then walks back and hands the marker to Tina.

"You write while Mercedes reads," she tells them.

"Why me?" Mercedes asks.

"You'll be the most fair," Rachel replies.

"Fine," Mercedes sighs.

Both girls stand and walk to the front of the room. Mercedes stops and grabs the paper before following Tina to the board. One by one, Mercedes tells Tina what number to write under which name until all eighteen are up there.

"That's seventy-five for Quinn," Artie announces after a moment. "And seventy-eight for Rachel."

There's a moment of silence and then Puck lets out a loud whoop. "That's how you do it, bro!"

Rachel smiles, but doesn't say anything.

Everyone else's eyes are on Quinn's reaction, which seems to be stunned silence. She's still staring at the whiteboard as if she's doing the math over and over again in her head.

"Does this mean this whole ridiculousness is finally over?" Kurt asks. "Maybe we can _finally_ stop dwelling on those two drama queens."

"Don't worry, Kurtie," Brittany says. "Next week when you have a drama fest, we can all focus on you."

"You should be glad I'm not focusing on you right now, Hummel," Santana tells him, turning slightly to face him.

Rachel stands and slowly walks over to Quinn. She offers her hand. Quinn smacks it away.

"I'm not shaking your damn hand, Berry."

"I just wanted to shake on an excellent competition, Quinn."

"I can't deal with your fucking gloating, right now," Quinn snaps.

"I wasn't aware I was," Rachel replies. "I apologize."

"Yeah, whatever," Quinn grumbles. "I bet you're going to break out into song any minute."

"How about _We Are the Champions_?" Santana suggests.

"I will do no such thing," Rachel says. "That sounds extremely unsportsman like. Just as I am a good loser, I am also a good winner."

"Not even a celebratory dance?"

"I'm going to finish my lunch," Rachel says, sitting again. "However, Quinn, I trust that this means this whole nonsense is over with?"

"Yeah, Berry. We're done."

"Excellent."

Everyone settles back down and begins finishing their lunches.

After a few minutes of quiet, Finn speaks up. "You think anyone will tell the teachers that all the chairs are on the roof?"


	16. It Went Swimmingly

**Title:** It Went Swimmingly  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Quinn, Figgins  
><strong>Rating:<strong> light R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Brittany and Rachel pull a prank; while Santana gets talked into doing something crazy by Puck.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~5,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Nope.

Quinn expects Berry's victory over her to be a point of contention in her life. The next day, when Quinn is at her locker and Rachel walks by, she braces herself for a cruel or disparaging comment. It never comes.

Quinn also expects Berry to attempt the power play she spoke of, trying to take away Quinn's popularity. Quinn can admit to herself, at least, that it is legitimacy possible. But the social hierarchy stays in place.

The only thing that seems to change is how the other glee kids react to her. And that seems to be their own personal biases and not influenced at all by anything Rachel does or says. It's not bad exactly, just a bit colder. As if she's a shiny new toy that's suddenly lost its appeal.

She hates it. But there's nothing she can do about it. The only thing that saves her from freaking out is that it's happening on such a small scale. Her popularity outside of the glee club, saves her sanity.

Quinn gives Berry a wide berth now, activity staying out of her way. The infection that is Rachel Berry has infiltrated her life and so Quinn does her best to just avoid it.

**…**

Rachel can actually feel the difference in her interaction with Quinn. Granted, the contact they have is miniscule, but the difference is enough to convince that competing was the right decision.

Despite participating, Rachel had thought the whole ordeal unnecessary. But it was obviously important to Quinn, so Rachel went along with it. Besides, she's now thrown a javelin and knows the basics of archery. As someone striving for new experiences, she's quite pleased about those aspects.

And Brittany seems ecstatic. The fact that she won so many things, has kept her giddy for days. This makes for a playful and exuberant Brittany who will randomly pick Rachel up in the halls and spin her in circles.

So it's no surprise to Rachel when Brittany suggests they should pull a prank together.

"How come we never have?" Brittany asks after Rachel agrees. "You did one with Puck and with Santana and you even did one for Coach."

Rachel shrugs. "I didn't realize you were interested."

"Duh," Brittany replies. "You're like my favorite Rachel shaped person, of course I want to pull a prank with you."

"Ah, thanks Britt," Rachel says. "You're my favorite Brittany shaped person."

**…**

"S is going to be mad at us," Brittany tells Rachel.

"Only because she'll be bored," Rachel replies.

"What if she thinks we're doing it?" Brittany asks.

Instead of the usual bro night, Rachel and Brittany decided to spend it together planning a prank. Brittany just seemed so eager and Rachel can't say no to her. Oddly, Noah seemed okay with the decision. He said, he'd have no trouble finding other entertainment. It all sounded rather ominous to Rachel, but she just shrugged it off, knowing she'd hear about it all too soon.

"We should totally make out," Brittany suggests.

"Maybe later."

"Okay."

"So did you have any prank ideas?"

"How about a slushie fountain? Oooh, or better yet, a slushie waterfall."

"Maybe," Rachel says. "Though, I'm not sure about the logistics.

"Or we chain all the teachers' cars to each other."

"That one would be difficult to pull off without being caught," Rachel points out.

"We paint a stripe on the floor that circles the whole school and then meets back up with itself. I bet tons of people would follow it to see where it goes."

Rachel giggles. "That's completely absurd."

"I know, right," Brittany smirks.

"Well it'd certainly be easy," Rachel says.

"What about something that throws fish?" Brittany asks. "I like fish."

"I'm not sure I'm up for something involving dead animals, Britt," Rachel replies. "Even if they're already dead and in plastic."

"Right. I guess that makes sense." They're both quiet for a moment, before Brittany begins bouncing. "Can we make a pond?"

"Um…"

"We fill the swimming pool with fish and turtles and ducks."

Rachel rolls the idea around in her head. "It sounds doable, I think."

"Yay," Brittany replies, tackling Rachel in a hug.

"Don't get too excited," Rachel says. "We still have to plan it."

**…**

Santana can't believe it's Friday night and she's been ditched by her best friend _and_girlfriend. If they were different sort of people, Santana would think they were having sex. But Rachel already explained Brittany wanted to pull a prank. She's fine with that, she just hates being left out.

Her cell phone rings and she doesn't bother checking the ID before answering.

"What?"

"Lopez," Puck says. "I see you're still a little pissy about being ditched."

"Whatever."

"All right," Puck continues. "I have three very important questions for you."

"What?"

"One. Do you still play chess?"

"Yeah."

"Two. You feel like kicking some ass?"

"Hell, yeah," Santana answers.

"Three. Are you ready to have your mind blown?"

"By you?" Santana scoffs. "Can't wait to see it.

"Awesome. I'll be over at nine. Wear workout clothes."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Puckerman.

"Trust me, it's going to be epic."

"Trust you? Ha!"

"Keep it up and I'll call your boss up and she'll just make you come with me anyway," Puck tells her.

"She would not."

"I am _very_persuasive."

Santana mulls it over. It's not like she has anything going on. Not that she'd admit that to Puck. And she can acknowledge to herself at least, that she is intrigued.

"Fine," Santana says, finally. "But if it sucks, I get to kick you in the balls."

"Deal."

Santana raises an eyebrow as they hang up. Tonight might not actually suck. If Puckerman's willing to wager getting kicked in the nuts, it might actually be interesting.

**…**

Santana's out the door the minute Puckerman honks his truck horn. Her mother, being so surprised that Santana is home, has been attempting to do some mother/daughter bonding. She wants nothing to do with that. Santana never thought she'd be relieved that Puck invited her out.

"So where the fuck are we going, Pucky?" Santana asks as the truck reverses out of the driveway.

"It's a surprise."

"Your surprises usually involve alcohol and a bad decision," Santana replies. "So no thanks."

"Usually you'd be right," Puck says. "But not tonight."

"I'm not in the mood for your little games."

"Just shut up and enjoy the ride, Lopez," Puck snaps. "We've got a bit of a drive in front of us."

"Should knee you in the balls anyway," Santana grumbles, leaning back.

**…**

Almost an hour later, Puck pulls up to an abandoned warehouse. There are a number of cars parked around it that Santana can make out in the dim light.

"You brought me to your fight club?" Santana asks. "How is _that_a surprise?"

"Not exactly," Puck says, climbing out of the truck, a backpack over one shoulder.

Santana is about to ask what the hell he needs _that_for, when a thought occurs to her. "Please tell me it's not dog fighting."

"Are you kidding? Rach would kick my ass if I ever went to something like that."

They're standing in front of the door and Puck knocks once, pauses, then twice, then pauses and then knocks again.

"Secret knocks, really?" Santana mutters.

The door slowly swings open with a creak.

Santana follows Puck through a maze of darkness and corners until they come to a card table. Behind it sits a middle-aged guy with glasses. On the table is a clipboard, a stack of paper and a cash box.

"Name?" the guy intones.

"Santana Lopez," Puck answers.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Santana whispers.

"Trust me."

"There's a $250 entry fee."

Puck nods and hands over a roll of cash. Santana's eyes boggle.

"Through those doors," the guy says, pointing. "They'll give you a number when you're up."

Puck nods and drags Santana away, towards the door.

They're in a gym. Santana looks around and sees a massive board with brackets on it. Above it reads, **Chess Boxing Tournament**.

"What. The. Fuck."

"It's exactly what it says," Puck explains. "You play a four minute round of chess, then box for three minutes and then you keep doing that until someone wins, either by knockout or checkmate."

"You're serious?"

"Hell yeah!"

"And you just signed _me_up for it?"

"Obviously."

"Without asking?"

"Hey, I'd do it," Puck says. "But I don't know how to play chess. If I remember correctly, you're pretty decent at it. And we both know you can fight."

"Yeah, but-"

"And think how awesome it'd be if you won," Puck continues. "Plus, I just laid down two fifty."

Santana looks around. It's all men; in the audience and as fighters. She looks at the ones wearing numbers. She could probably take them. What she lacks in size, she more than makes up for with speed, agility and tenaciousness.

"Fine," Santana agrees. "But you have to help explain to Rach if I look like hell tomorrow."

"Deal."

The pair walks over to the registration table. They hand her a number, 8, ask her height and weight and then place her in the bracket.

According to the bracket on the board, there are three rounds in the single elimination tournament. She's the last one to sign up. She's pitted against number Two and they're the second fight. Looking, she tries to spot her opponent.

She finally sees him in the corner, throwing punches to warm up. He reminds her a little of Finn, though skinnier. She can totally take him.

She and Puck find a little corner where she can warm up and stretch. Puck also takes the time to quietly further explain things. By the time the first fight is about to start, Santana feels confident in her chances.

**…**

When the three round fight between Six and One is over, Santana is actually glad Puck signed her up, though she'd never admit it. Watching the match had been such an odd contrast of the cerebral and the brutal; she found it oddly appealing.

Bouncing around a bit to warm up, Santana nods at her opponent, who nods back. They both sit at the chess board and shake hands over it.

"Begin."

With the noise defenders on and her intense need to win, everything else falls away and she's able to focus only on the chess. She wouldn't call herself a chess player, but she spent enough time in her prepubescent years playing that she feels like she'll make a good showing. The speed chess also appeals to her, it goes well with the adrenaline that's already coursing through her.

And then suddenly she's up, putting on boxing gloves that Puck apparently brought with him while they remove the chess board.

The bell dings and she's fighting; dodging, feigning and managing a lot of hits. Her reflexes are what make her confident that she's going to win. When the round's over, she knows if it comes down to it, she definite won that round, point wise.

Attempting to play chess while sweaty and bloody is a surreal experience. Once again, the noise defenders help and though it takes a bit longer, she's able to zone everything else out and focus.

In fact, it's even more difficult to switch gears when the round is over, because it took so much effort to find her focus before. But not wanting to lose, she shakes it off best she can and tries to direct her adrenaline to fighting instead of thinking.

Another round of chess and another round of boxing. Each time the contrast of the intellectual versus the physical is more jarring. The biggest challenge is keeping it together in the first minute of each differing round.

And then she lands a perfect right hook to the jaw that knocks him to the floor. She watches, heart pounding in her ears, panting as the ref counts to ten. Her opponent tries to get up, but barely manages to sit upright.

A moment later, the match is over and Santana is declared victor.

**…**

The next two matches take about the same amount of time and Santana is given a significant break before the standings are posted. She's feeling pretty good about her chances. All she has to do is to win the next fight and she'll be guaranteed a cash prize. She plans on winning the whole thing, but it's nice to know if she doesn't, there's still a good reason to go through all this.

Besides, being able to say that she's participated in a chess boxing match.

Five and Three lose and so Santana is pitted against number Four, a bulky looking man who is rather intimidating.

Still, Santana's determined to win and she's not going to be daunted by this blow hard. Just watching and overhearing things, she can already tell she'd want to punch him outside of the boxing ring. This makes her sure she's going to win. That and he's had far less time to rest than she has.

**…**

With renewed focus and confidence, Santana sits down to the first round of chess. It's even faster and more furious than her first match. This guy obviously means business. Santana digs deep in her brain to come up with ideas to counter his moves.

They're much further along when the noise defenders are pulled off this time. Each goes to their corners and puts on their boxing gloves. The bell dings and quickly, they're dodging and weaving.

Santana knows the odds of her winning the boxing are significantly less this match because of her opponent's size in relation to hers, so she plans to do the best she can and try to win on the chessboard.

She manages to get in a few good punches, but she's definitely feeling fatigued when they sit down to the second round of chess. Also, the dripping blood is very distracting.

Santana feels like she's three or four moves away from checkmate when the round ends. She wonders if her opponent is just fucking with her, letting her think that or if it's actually true. She can only continue her strategy and hope for the best.

It is obvious that her energy level is low, but she does her best. She spends most of the round, evading and hates herself a bit for it. But she needs to be able to survive until the next round of chess, so it's all she can do. Her actions are obviously making number Four cocky and Santana can easily see that. She hopes that will make him sloppy at the chessboard.

Wiping the sweat out of her eyes, Santana begins, what she hopes, are winning moves towards checkmate. Staring across the chessboard, she can still feel the hubris coming off him in waves and fights to keep focus.

And then her opponent has ripped off his noise defenders and dropped them on the ground in disgust. Santana's arm is held up in victory. She's won.

**…**

The spike of adrenaline has waned, but she's still riding the high of making it to the final round. Not only will she be making some money, but she has real proof of her badassery; though it's mostly in the form a bruised jaw and a black eye.

She and Puck watch the other match closely. It's close as far as Santana can tell, though it is obvious that Seven is struggling against One's efforts. Puck mutters that her final bout is going to be difficult and she can only nod in agreement. She sips more water, trying to calm her pounding heart.

The only, _only_advantage she has is that she'll once again have a longer resting period. Otherwise, she is outmatched in weight, height and boxing ability, as well as probably facing a seasoned chess player. Boxer One creamed his opponent in the first round by achieving checkmate only a minute into their second round of chess. And the only reason it took so long was that boxer Six took the maximum amount of time given to move his white pieces.

Once One has crushed Seven, Santana does her best to ignore her surroundings and not get psyched out. She's got a strategy for the boxing and an unorthodox plan for the chess. She hopes it's enough.

**…**

Just before she climbs into the ring, Puck grabs her by the shoulders and moves in close, so she can hear him over the din.

"You can do this, Lopez," he says. "You're Santana fucking Lopez, the bitchiest, badass chick I know that never loses because she refuses to quit. Think about what you could do with that money. He's underestimating you because of your size, but _especially_because you're a girl. Prove him wrong." And then smacks her on the shoulders and pushes her into the ring.

They shake hands over the chessboard and sit. Eyes locked, they both put on the noise defenders and One moves a white rook forward.

And then it's a series of quick, furious movement as Santana plays on instinct, but trying to keep her plan in mind. The four minutes pass in the blink of an eye and Santana is putting boxing gloves on. She takes a sip of water and a fist bump from Puck and steps into the middle.

Knowing brute force isn't going to help her, Santana performs elaborate dodges and weaves, while managing to get in a hit or two. Sweat dripping down her face, Santana can see the building frustration in her opponent's eyes. This renews her fading energy and she redoubles her efforts.

She's very successful because by the time the bell dings, Santana can practically feel the agitation radiating off him. She does her best to shake herself out of boxing mode and back into chess mode.

The moves are just as quick and pieces are disappearing rapidly off the board. However, her approach seems to be doing the trick. While One has no problems responding to her moves, Santana can tell he's not completely sure what to think of her tactics. She uses this continued unbalance to her advantage and survives until the next round.

Santana finally feels like she has a handle on being able to switch back and forth between boxing and chess mode. And so, in this third round of boxing, she's confident and she ducks a punch and counters with a shot to his side. He's slowing down; she can see that, while her pure enjoyment of the situation is feeding her energy level.

The third round of chess is most likely to be the last, Santana knows. Her only hope is to stretch it out as long as possible and wear One out in the next round of boxing. Then maybe his fatigue will affect his focus.

Except their moves on the board seem to be rather circular. Neither of them are making progress. Seeing this, the ref calls for a time out; which Santana didn't realize was allowed.

The ref confers with the judges. Santana and her opponent look everywhere, but at each other. After ages, though it's probably only a few minutes, the ref returns and raises his arms for silence.

"The chess game has reached a stalemate," he announces. "After conferring with the judges, they tell me that the boxing scores are also a tie. Therefore, the winner is the player with the black pieces. Which means, number eight, Santana Lopez is the winner."

This announcement is met with five seconds of silence and then the reactions are loud and forceful. Boxer One stands and whips his noise defenders at the ground. He stalks over to the judges table and begins violently arguing with them. Santana stands, a bit in shock and removes her own defenders, setting them carefully on the board.

Only to be practically knocked over by Puck sweeping her up in his arms and lifting her off the ground in a hug.

"I told you," he yells. "I fucking told you."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, Puckerman," she yells back, hugging him back.

**…**

Once all the chaos has calmed, Santana is able to shower and change into a different set of clothes that Puck brought along in the backpack.

"I'm impressed," Santana tells him. "You seem to have thought of everything."

"Yeah, blame your girlfriend," Puck replies.

On their way out, Santana is handed a large envelope of cash and another smaller envelope. She opens the cash filled one and quickly counts it; can't be too careful.

"That has a ticket for free entry for another match. There's also a card with the info on how to find out where the matches are being held."

"Congratulations," a judge says, coming up behind them. "It was impressive. None of us expected you to win."

"Thank, I guess."

"We hope to see you again."

Once they're in the truck and driving away, Santana counts out the two fifty that Puck put down for her.

Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Puck says, "I was pretty sure I'd get that back. You really are a fucking badass bitch."

"About time you realized that," Santana replies, counting out another two fifty.

"What are you doing?"

"Never let it be said, that I don't acknowledge things," she replies, sticking the two wads of cash into Puck's pocket. "That's for the encouragement and bringing me.

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. I know you don't play chess. But there are plenty of others."

"Maybe," Puck acknowledges. "But I doubt any of them could have pulled that off."

"I won by default," Santana says. "Sort of."

"Whatever. _You_put the chess into a stalemate and then somehow managed to box well enough to earn a tie."

"Yeah, but my winning was only because I had the black pieces. That was just a fluke."

"No way," Puck says. "I know the rules. I made sure you had the black ones."

"Jesus, maybe Rach really is rubbing off on you."

**…**

She crashes at Puck's because it will help put off having to explain her appearance to people.

"But you're coming with me to Rach's," Santana tells Puck. "You can help explain this." She then puts the bag of peas back against her jaw.

'Yeah. Sure. Whatever. But all you need to do is wave that thousand bucks around."

"Maybe," Santana allows. "Not that she cares about stuff like that."

**…**

When Puck and Santana finally show up at the Berry residence Saturday morning, Rachel's been up for hours. She and Brittany are studying and waiting for Santana to show up. Well, Rachel's studying, she thinks Brittany is probably doodling since her textbooks are nowhere in sight.

There's a knock on the bedroom door and they hear Puck call out. "You guys decent?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he opens the door.

"Where's S?" Brittany asks.

"I hate to say this bro," Puck begins. "But you are no longer my hero. Your girlfriend has taken your place."

"Okay. Why?"

"Get your ass in here, Lopez."

Sheepishly, Santana enters. Rachel gasps upon seeing her. Santana has a black eye, a split lip, bruised jaw, and is moving slowly as if in pain.

"Hey."

Rachel is up in an instant and escorting Santana to a chair. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'll live," Santana tells her. "Just sore."

"Did you take her to your fight club?" Rachel asks Puck.

"Better," Puck replies. "She won an underground chess boxing match."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Explain."

"You play chess for four minutes, then box for three and then play more chess and it keeps going until there's a winner. Your girl here beat three opponents and won fifteen hundred dollars."

"Yay Santana!"

"Chess boxing?"

"Yeah, I used to be pretty good when I was a kid."

"Apparently." Rachel leans in close. "How sore is your lip?"

"Not that sore."

Rachel gently kisses Santana, mindful of her injuries. Santana isn't as worried as she pulls Rachel into her lap.

"Hot," Puck mutters.

"Oh yeah," Brittany adds.

"So, fifteen hundred dollars," Rachel says, once they've broken apart. "What are you going to do with it all?"

"I gave Puck five hundred, since he put down the entrance fee."

"That was nice of you, Noah."

"Totally worth it."

"We should have a party," Brittany suggests.

"Maybe. I haven't really decided yet."

"But you're going to do another one, right?" Puck asks.

Santana shrugs.

"If you do," Rachel says. "Can I come?"

"Really?"

"Seriously?" Santana asks.

Rachel nods.

"Yeah. Why not?"

**…**

"So what did you and Britt decide to do?" Santana asks after Puck and Brittany take off.

"You'll just have to wait and see, like always."

"Just once you could let me in on it."

"What fun would that be?"

They're lying side by side on Rachel's bed, a movie they're not paying attention to is playing. They're not really touching, because Rachel's worried about hurting Santana.

"How come you never told me you play chess?"

"Don't know. Doesn't matter."

"And that you apparently still play?" Rachel continues.

"I'll play once in a while online if I'm bored," Santana replies. "No big deal."

"I think it's amazing," Rachel says. "It explains a lot, actually."

"Explains what, exactly?"

"Why you're so good at strategizing and such," Rachel explains. "You learned those skills on a smaller level for the chessboard and then later, you applied to your life without even realizing it."

"Oh."

"It's totally hot," Rachel continues. "I agree with Noah. You're totally my hero now."

"Yeah?"

"The fact that you're able to pulverize your opponent in the boxing ring while also annihilating him on the chessboard has become the sexiest thing about you."

"Then you definitely owe me some rewards," Santana smirks. "One for ditching me last night and another for being such a fucking clever badass."

"You're not too sore?"

"You'll just have to be careful. Consider it a challenge," Santana says, smirking.

**…**

Sunday night, Brittany picks the lock as Rachel waits, foot taping nervously. They have a lot of materials and quite a lot of work to do.

Once it's all inside and where it needs to be, they get to work. They do everything silently, each knowing what they need to do. It's a nice easy partnership, that surprises Rachel, though she supposes she shouldn't be. The comradely she has with Britt would certainly translate into their working together. Technically it already has, it's just been less noticeable because there were others involved.

It takes hours, but once it's done, there's a real sense of accomplishment. It's certainly the most elaborate prank yet. But it's what Brittany wanted to do, so it's what they did.

Getting everything back out of the school is just as much effort as sneaking out. Thankfully, it's still dark out and so they're able to scurry under the cover of darkness.

Brittany crashes at Rachel's because it's easier.

"Thanks Rach," Brittany says as they're crawling into bed.

"For what?"

"The prank, silly," Brittany replies. "It was fun."

"I had a good time too."

"You think S will like it?"

"I'm sure she will."

"Good."

**…**

Monday morning word gets around very quickly that the Prankster struck again. People rush to pool to have a look.

They run into a wall of people just inside the door. Everyone is sort of in awe of the full scale pond in front of them. There are all sorts of animals indulging in the water. There are also others enjoying the pond like environment that surrounds the pool.

That's the other reason, everyone is standing so far back. When some of the first people to arrive, moved too close, a few mallards became quite loud as they moved into defense mode. They had no problem waddling forward towards their attackers, ready to beak anyone that got too close.

The bell rouses some people out of their staring and gossiping stupor. They give the whole surreal scene one more glance before leaving. Eventually, a teacher shoos the remaining students out as the janitorial staff enter. They have another long day in front of them.

**…**

Ten minutes later, the janitors look up when they hear an approaching argument.

"…can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious, Ms. Berry. Student interference is not allowed."

"It wouldn't be interference, Mr. Figgins. It's assistance. Those are living, breathing creatures. I simply wish to ensure they're not harmed in their extraction."

"Are you suggesting our janitorial staff is incapable?"

"I'm doing no such thing," Rachel replies. "I simply consider myself _more_ qualified to remove them. _If_you allow me to be in charge, I'd be able to safely remove them and save the janitors the hassle of doing so. Everyone wins."

The janitors wait with baited breath since they hadn't been looking forward to rounding up all the animals. The Berry chick is crazy, _every_one knows that; but she gets shit done. They can appreciate that.

"Fine," Figgins says finally. "You have until the beginning of lunch to remove the animals. After that, they come back in and what happens then is what happens. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Rachel says. "Thank you."

Figgins nods faintly. "You all heard that. Everyone out until lunch."

The three janitors file out, quietly, nodding at the Berry chick as she softly thanks them when they walk by her.

**…**

True to her word, the pool is free of animals by the time the lunch bell rings. Figgins doesn't question it. He knows she had to have had help, but no one's made any complaints, so he'll leave it alone. It's just easier that way when dealing with Rachel Berry.

Maybe he'll asks for her assistance in catching the Prankster. He knows the ridiculousness of that request considering she was at one point a suspect. However, that had been based on heresy and not true evidence. He too easily gave into his desperation, but never again. He's sure the initial meeting will be met with disbelief, but he's also sure once he appeals to her compassionate nature, she'll come around.

And then, the McKinley Prankster will finally be caught.


	17. That Went Well

**Title:** That Went Well  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Will, Emma, Sue, Figgins, New Directions  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Santana wants to screw with Quinn. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as planned.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~13,100  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> There's mention of an abusive relationship. Nothing major, since there's little to no angst in this series, but just to be safe, possible trigger warning.  
><strong>AN:** Technically starts before the end of It Went Swimmingly.  
><strong><br>**

Santana's face looks somewhat better on Monday morning, but there's still a black eye and bruised jaw to cover up. Once she's done, only the cuts on her lips are visible. She figures she can blame it on some badassery that supposedly happened over the weekend.

Besides, she's Santana fucking Lopez. She doesn't owe anyone an explanation.

Driving to the Berrys' to give Rachel a ride, Santana is on top of the world, still floating from her victory Friday night. And then Rachel's reaction had led to an epic marathon of sex Saturday night. It's one of the better weekends in memory.

**…**

"Damn Lopez." Quinn's voice is full of mocking. "Berry finally started getting violent, I see."

If there's one thing that could ruin her high, it would be Quinn Fabray. Pulling things out of her locker, Santana decides not to give in, but instead, fuck with her.

"Shut up, Fabray," Santana grouses. "You wouldn't understand."

It's obviously not the response Quinn was seeking, because she can only gape. "What?"

"Never mind. I gotta go." Santana scampers off, leaving Quinn staring after her.

**…**

Quinn spends first period deep in thought, ignoring the teacher. She'd only been joking earlier, but Santana's reaction… It would explain a lot; the change of behavior in both of them, the arrogance that Rachel seems to now sport, why Santana pulled away.

She didn't think it possible, but apparently it's true. Rachel Berry is beating Santana Lopez.

God, even thinking that is so absurd. Quinn chuckles to herself at the thought. There's no way. RuPaul could never get the drop on Santana. Nor would Santana allow that to happen. Surely, the girl was just screwing with her.

On a whim, she texts Brittany. Wht hppnd 2 S face?

She receives a response a few minutes later. Violence.

Wait. What? Wht does THAT mean?

This time the response takes longer.

Nothing happnd.

Quinn just stares at her phone. How is she supposed to interpret that? She tries texting Brittany for the rest of the period, but gets no response.

**…**

Rachel knows she can easily get all the animals out with no trouble. However, it will be quite time consuming. She decides to try a different approach.

Pulling out her cell phone, Rachel skims through her contacts until she comes upon a rarely used number.

"Tommy? It's Rachel. Yeah, Leroy's daughter. Fine. Fine. Couldn't say. That it is. Listen, could you possibly do me a favor? Well, it seems someone thought it'd be funny to put a bunch of animals _inside_ McKinley. Yes, the high school. I don't know why. Do you think maybe you, Ron and Billy could come get them out and release them for me? Because I don't want to miss my classes. They won't be as careful. I don't care. Please. Because I asked. It is good enough. Fine. You owe me. Yes, you do. That's right. Eleven. I do realize. Thanks. Hi to Ron and Billy. Yes. Thanks. Bye."

One less thing to worry about. She knows she can trust the Saunders brothers to safely remove the animals. After all, it's from them that she learned.

Feeling buoyant, Rachel walks to the front of McKinley to wait for the brothers, so she can direct them towards the pool and the closest door.

**…**

Sitting in second period, Quinn analyzes, watching Berry in her peripheral. Nothing seems different, but the most she mulls it over, the more plausible the abuse seems.

When the bell rings, Quinn decides to try and get answers another way.

"Berry."

"Quinn."

"What'd you do this weekend? Because Santana's being tight lipped about it."

"Nothing in particular," Rachel replies. "If Santana doesn't want to tell you, that's her business."

"She's your girlfriend."

"That's really not a compelling argument, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "Besides, why do you care?"

"Because she won't tell me."

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Rachel says. "I try to stay out of such things. I'm sure if you exercise a little patience, she'll tell you soon."

"I'm concerned."

"I'm sure she appreciates that."

"I'm concerned," Quinn tries again. "That maybe the reason behind her cut lip isn't simply an accident."

"I wasn't there," Rachel replies. "So I can't say."

"You're very good at sticking to your story," Quinn says.

"You mean, the truth?"

"_Some_thing happened to S this weekend, Berry," Quinn growls. "And if I find out that _you_ had anything to do with it-"

"I hate to cut this discussion short, but I really must go if I don't want to be late for third period. Bye Quinn."

And once again, Quinn is left staring.

**…**

Santana is summoned by Coach Sylvester at the end of second period.

"What the hell happened to your face, S?"

"Uh…"

"And I'll know if you're lying."

"Wasn't going to," Santana replies sullenly. "Won a boxing match this weekend."

"Did you now?"

Santana nods.

"Fine. Dismissed."

**…**

Quinn spend the rest of the morning trying to either get information from Brittany or get a straight answer from Santana. She's unsuccessful in both endeavors. It's almost as if they're avoiding her. It just further feeds her theory.

**…**

Santana is eating lunch with Britt and some other Cheerios when Rachel stomps over and says, "Santana, dear, may I have a moment of your time? _Now_!" And then stalks off, obviously expecting Santana to follow.

She finds Rachel stewing in the choir room. She steps carefully inside and closes the door behind her.

Rachel looks up as the door clicks shut and Santana can see fire in her eyes.

"Santana Lopez," Rachel begins. "Did you tell Quinn that I _beat_ you?"

Santana just smirks.

"Why would you do that?"

"To fuck with her," Santana replies. "Why else?"

"And you're okay having people think your badass self is getting beating up by ManHands?"

"Don't call yourself that."

"Well?" Rachel is now tapping her foot impatiently.

"It's just Q," Santana retorts. "She won't tell anyone of merit. She'll be too worried about your reaction."

"But surely your years of friendship would compel her to help," Rachel points out.

"It's hard to tell with Quinn, actually, babe. Besides, she'll probably figure it out and then be pissed at me."

"Well, I hope it's soon," Rachel says. "Her inquiries are getting quite tiresome."

"You do realize your demand that I follow you, didn't exactly help," Santana points out.

"Yes, well, I got caught up in the moment. Thankfully, Quinn wasn't around."

"Thankfully."

"Can I asks something?"

"Of course."

"Why don't you want anyone to know you won a chess boxing match this weekend? It proves you're a badass physically_and_ mentally."

"I just don't, all right?"

"I won't say anything, San," Rachel says. "You know that. I just don't understand. And I'd like to."

"It's easier if they all see me in a certain light," Santana says. "And while totally fucking awesome, chess boxing isn't the right one."

"You're serious?"

"Those morons would just latch onto the chess part. They wouldn't realize what it really means. Instead, they would give me less power and go after you. Not to mention those who _would_ understand; their knowing is just as dangerous."

"How so?"

"If people gain insight into how you think, they'll be better able to take you down."

"That doesn't sound too paranoid," Rachel says.

"That's how it is in the real world," Santana counters. "I'm simply applying my strategy on a smaller scale."

"You sound like you're preparing for battle."

"You don't think high school is a battlefield?" Santana questions.

"I suppose it could be seen that way."

"Exactly. We just have to survive this place a little longer," Santana says. "And I'd like to have every advantage possible."

"Fine," Rachel agrees. "But if Quinn doesn't start leaving me alone, there will be consequences."

"That's fair." Santana looks around a moment. "Wanna?"

**…**

Quinn hears about Rachel dragging Santana off when she sits down with the rest of the Cheerios. It just fuels her theory. According to the others, Rachel practically dragged Santana away from the table.

Quinn realizes that it could be unrelated, but the timing is conspicuous. It makes her suspicious. Especially since Berry's been much less volatile since she started dating Santana.

That thought actually stops Quinn mid chew. What if Berry has been taking her anger out on Santana?

Quinn doesn't finish her lunch.

**…**

"Why can't we at least tell our fellow glee members about the fight?" Rachel asks as they fix their clothes and check their appearances.

"Because it's full of gossips. Hummel and Mercedes are walking bullhorns."

"I don't think you're giving them enough credit."

"And you're giving them too much," Santana replies.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Rachel tells Santana.

"It's fine. I'm just yanking Q's chain. Maybe this will change her perspective."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Q thinks B and I have abandoned her because we're nice to you now," Santana explains.

"That's absurd."

"That's Q," Santana replies. "Personally, I think she's repressing some serious gay longing for you."

This actually renders Rachel speechless. Santana chuckles.

"Please tell me you're joking."

Santana shrugs. "She's repressing something. Lesbian works as well as anything else."

"Yes, but why me?"

"You _are_ her favorite target."

"Surely you jest."

"You really are," Santana replies. "And don't call me Shirley."

"Why?"

"Who knows? Q can't even give a straight answer to that question."

"Lovely," Rachel mumbles. "Something else to be concerned about."

"What's there to be concerned about, babe? It's not like she still slushies you."

"Yes, but if what you're saying is true, then Quinn will need to find another way to direct her attentions to me without seeming to actually _like_ me. And she's already done this a few times. When you and I were friends, she was openly, overly hostile, almost in defiance of our relationship. And then when that didn't work, she was more subtle about her hatred; except we already knew it was there. And then there was the challenge. That took over a week to solve, but it wasn't long enough. Her latest? Thinking I'm a threat to you? Is the most interesting. It serves two purposes. She gets to focus on me and at the same time, possibly get you away from me. No wonder she latched onto it so easily. She jumped at the possibility that I'm bad for you."

"Holy shit."

"Yes, well, it just sort of came to me."

"Does that mean that Q will just find a different way to interfere after she figures out I was joking?"

Rachel shrugs. "I have no idea. I suppose it depends on her reaction when she finds out."

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.

"That is my cue," Rachel says. "See you later?"

Santana just nods, still contemplating.

**…**

Rachel is yanked harshly out of the doorway while exiting sixth period. She's dragged into the next room, which happens to be an empty classroom.

"Quinn," Rachel says, finally being able to identify her attacker. "What is the meaning of this?"

"What did you do to S, RuPaul?" Quinn hisses, ignoring Rachel's question.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Quinn."

"So her cut lip and black eye are just my imagination?"

"How do you know she has a black eye?" Rachel asks.

"I repeat," Quinn says. "What did you do to Santana?"

"I did nothing."

"I bet," Quinn sneers. "This explains a lot actually."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Like you don't know."

"Quinn," Rachel says. "I entreat you to give up this futile venture. I am most definitely _not_ abusing Santana. I would never do such a thing."

"Then how do you know what I'm talking about?"

"I used my deduction skills."

"Or you are and are just trying to con me."

"God, I hope not," Rachel replies. "That's the worst strategy I've ever heard."

"Hi Rach, Hi Quinn," Brittany's voice interrupts them. "Why do you guys look so serious?"

"No reason."

"Is this about Santana?" Brittany asks. "Because she said to tell you not to worry."

"Really?" Quinn asks.

"Actually," Brittany replies. "She said, 'Q needs to chill the fuck out. She's taking this joke way too fucking serious.' And she's right, Quinn."

Scowling, Quinn looks back and forth between Rachel and Brittany several times before stomping away.

"That went well," Rachel comments wryly.

**…**

Quinn's been watching Santana carefully all through Cheerios practice. She's off her game, just slightly. It's obvious to Quinn that Santana's moving slower, possibly because she's sore. More pieces fall into place.

In the locker room, Quinn makes sure to keep out of Santana's line of sight as she watches her. Her movements seem sluggish and Quinn's pretty sure she sees a bruise or two that couldn't be from Cheerios.

But then Quinn sees it; briefly, no more than a couple seconds, but she definitely saw it. A tattoo. That says, **Rachel Berry's Bitch**.

Holy crap, Quinn thinks. She quickly dresses and leaves, wanting time to think.

**…**.

"How'd you get the animals out of the pool?" Brittany asks Rachel as they ride in Santana's car.

"I called some guys I know. They did it for me."

"Some guys?" Santana asks.

"Some brothers. Sons of my daddy's coworker. We used to spend time together in our younger days."

"Brothers?"

"They work at the zoo," Rachel continues. "I learned how to properly handle animals from them."

"How come I've never heard of these guys?"

"You have," Rachel tells her. "Remember? Billy Saunders? He was my dance partner several times when I was in seventh and eighth grade. He was actually quite good considering how little training he had in comparison to me."

"Babe," Santana says. "Everyone has had less training than you."

"Well, that's certainly true."

"And so you just asked them to do it and they did?" Santana questions.

"Well, they did owe me, so I had to call in that," Rachel replies. "But basically, yes."

"Unbelievable," Santana mutters. "Un-fucking-believable."

**…**

Pieces are starting to fall into place for Quinn. The tattoo is just the final part of the puzzle. The fact that the pair kept the tattoo a secret seals it for Quinn. Everyone was so concerned about Rachel, but it was obviously a cover. Rachel is the_real_ bitch in the relationship.

Santana is obviously in denial. Or thinks it's okay. Quinn tries to remember all the _Lifetime_ movies she used to watch. The women rarely got away without serious trauma. Quinn's not going to let that happen to Santana.

Tomorrow she's going to seek out some help.

**…**

The next morning Rachel finds herself escorted to Principal Figgins' office. She's ushered inside and sits, because she has no choice.

"Good morning, Ms. Berry."

"Principal Figgins," Rachel replies.

"I need to speak with you about something rather important."

"All right."

"As I'm sure you're aware, this school has been plagued by a prankster. He or she has been wreaking havoc on McKinley for far too long."

Rachel nods, getting nervous.

"I owe you an apology for when I accused you of being the prankster," Figgins continues. "I have no idea who it is and when I was given, what I thought, was a legitimate lead, I had to take it."

"Thank you sir," Rachel says. "But I'm still not sure why I'm here."

"I'm requesting your help in figuring out who the prankster is."

"Excuse me?"

"You're tenacious, determined, intelligent and you're in a position to learn things myself or my staff is unable to."

"Um…"

"I realize how unorthodox this request is. And normally, I would never even consider it, but I am desperate," Figgins explains. "I see no other options."

"I'm not sure how much help I can be Principal Figgins," Rachel replies. "While I agree with everything you said about me, no one seems to know who the Prankster is. Or if they do, they're not talking."

"I realize that, but surely you could do a little investigating."

Rachel sighs. "Sir, may I be frank with you?"

"I welcome it."

"While my social standing at the moment might be acceptable," Rachel begins. "It would not be helped by me nosing around trying to figure out who the Prankster is. And I cannot go back to how things were before."

"I understand that, I do, Ms. Berry, but I need you to also understand my position."

"Everyone is constantly speculating who the Prankster is after every prank," Rachel explains. "No one's come up with any answers."

"You don't have to _investigate_ per say," Figgins tells her. It's obvious he's getting annoyed. "If you could just keep your ears open and let me know if you hear anything."

"I'd rather not make accusations based on overheard gossip."

"Then only tell me what you think is relevant," Figgins replies.

"I'm not entirely comfortable being a spy either."

"I wouldn't categorize it as spying. It's simply the passing along of information."

Rachel sighs. It seems that she's not going to get out of here without a definitive answer. "I'll think about it, all right?"

Figgins nods. "Excellent. I know you'll make the right decision."

"Right. I have to get to class now," Rachel says, standing.

**…**

Santana hasn't seen Quinn once today and hopes that means she's finally figured it out. She texts Rachel during lunch to see if Quinn's been bothering her.

_I have seen neither hide nor hair of Ms. Fabray today. Is she ill? I expected further inquiries into how awful I am to you. Thank you SO much for playing this joke._

Santana wonders if the sarcasm means she's in the doghouse. It's strange that Quinn hasn't been seen; especially since Quinn shares second period with Rachel. Maybe she's skipping. A rare thing for Fabray, but it does happen occasionally.

Normally, she wouldn't care, but considering the situation, Santana doesn't know what to think. It could be that Quinn skipped to plot revenge on Santana for the joke or it could be that she's sought out adult assistance. Santana just prays it's the first one.

**…**

Will is having lunch in his office when Quinn timidly knocks on his door.

"Quinn. What can I help you with?'

"I, uh, I'm worried. About Santana."

"All right." Will gestures for Quinn to sit down.

"I didn't know who else to go to," Quinn explains. "But I thinks someone's hurting her."

"Hurting her?"

"Like beating her."

"Oh." Will is shocked. "Do you have any idea who?"

Quinn nods.

Will waits. When Quinn continues to sit there in silence, he asks, "Who?"

Quinn leans closer and lowers her voice. "I think it's her girlfriend."

Will is now stunned into silence. She couldn't mean Rachel could she? "Rachel? Rachel Berry is beating Santana Lopez?"

"I know it sounds crazy," Quinn agrees.

"What makes you think…"

"Santana has a cut lip and she's covered up a black eye. And she won't admit where she got it. Plus when I asked Rachel about it, she just got defensive."

"That's hardly enough to-"

"This is just the first time it's been visible," Quinn insists. "Think about. Santana has been different since she started dating Berry. It makes sense that she's changing because Berry beats her. I mean, where else would this nice and fluffy Santana come from?"

Santana's been nice and fluffy? Will thinks to himself as he feels a headache coming on. "Did you try talking to Brittany?"

Quinn nods. "She didn't clarify anything."

Will isn't surprised. "All right, Quinn. I'll try talking to Santana. Hopefully, she'll feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

"I hope so, Mr. Schue."

**…**

Rachel has a feeling that Quinn hasn't figured out that Santana was joking. When the blonde shows up at lunch, she shoots Rachel a judgmental look.

It's a rarity that Quinn sits at the glee table instead of the Cheerios' table, but no one blinks an eye as Quinn sits at the end of the table next to Santana.

On the other side of Santana, Rachel keeps an eye on Quinn, who is in turn keeping an eye on Rachel's interaction with Santana. The couple isn't really interacting, just sitting extremely close. Santana is talking with Tina and Mercedes while Rachel is talking to Artie and Mike. Quinn quietly eats her lunch and simply watches.

Kurt keeps shooting questioning glances at Quinn, but doesn't say anything as he half listens to Mercedes, Tina and Santana chat. The head Cheerio has been acting weird this week, which Kurt at first blamed on Quinn losing to Rachel. However, watching her now, he isn't sure. Something's obviously going on; he'll just have to sit back and wait for the fireworks to start. They always do.

**…**

Will grabs Santana before she walks into glee. "Brittany, could Santana and I talk a moment?"

Brittany nods.

"Alone?"

Brittany smiles, nods again and goes inside.

"What's up, Mr. Schue?"

"I was wondering what happened to you this weekend."

"What'd you mean?" Santana asks.

"Your lip. Your eye."

"It's fine."

"What happened?" Will asks.

"Why do you care?"

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," Santana insists.

"And you're not having any problems… with anyone?" Will continues.

"No. Course not. I'm Santana Lopez. Who would give me trouble?"

"It's just no one knows why-"

"And why is that your business?"

"We're concerned," Will answers.

"Who's 'we'?"

"Myself, of course. And one of your teammates."

"Quinn?"

"Who isn't important," Will tells her. "What's important is that if you need to talk to anyone, about anything, you can come to me."

"I'm fine, Mr. Schue. Quinn's over reacting."

"She's just worried."

"I get that. I'm fine."

"Santana…"

"I'm serious, Mr. Schue," Santana says. "Drop it." Done with the conversation, Santana steps around Will and walks into the choir room.

**…**

Glee is awkward at best. Both Rachel and Santana try to act like Santana's joke isn't backfiring on them. Quinn either glares angrily at Rachel or glances over at Santana looking overly concerned. Meanwhile, Mr. Schuester tries his best to keep the three separated. This is made more difficult by the fact that Rachel and Santana don't want to be separated.

The others sense something's up, but no one's willing to broach the subject. They just try to be as on as possible, so practice is over quickly and they can all leave.

**…**

Will asks Rachel to stay a moment after glee. Since Santana isn't coming over, Rachel gives her girlfriend a peck on the cheek and waves her out.

"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Schue?"

"I'll get straight to the point, Rachel," Will says. "I think we'll both appreciate that."

"All right," Rachel says, warily.

"Did you hit Santana this weekend?"

"What? No. Of course not."

"Then what happened to cause her injuries?"

"You should really talk to her about that," Rachel replies.

"Why? What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything, Mr. Schue. But if you want to know what happened to Santana, then you should just ask her instead of interrogating me."

"I tried asking her."

"And you didn't like her answer, I take it."

"Rachel, giving me attitude isn't helping."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say here," Rachel tells him.

"I just want you to assure me that you're not mistreating Santana."

"I am the perfect girlfriend, Mr. Schue."

"Because I'd hate to have to take this further," Will says.

"Please don't attempt to threaten me," Rachel replies.

"It's not a threat, Rachel," Will replies. "It's simply the truth."

"There's nothing to take further," Rachel insists. "I don't believe in violence and I certainly don't believe in it as a problem solver. You should know this."

"I suppose I do. But only because that's what you show me."

"We're not going to get into that, are we? Because I could make similar statements about you, Mr. Schue."

"I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."

"Quinn simply misconstrued something Santana said and now she's run off on some wild goose chase."

"She says she has evidence."

"Circumstantial at best."

Will stares at Rachel, trying to understand or gauge her honesty. "Fine. But I'll be keeping a closer eye on you."

"Goody," Rachel mocks.

Grabbing her bag off the floor, Rachel flounces out in a huff.

"Well, that went well," Will mutters to himself.

**…**

When Santana answers her phone, she's greeted by an irate girlfriend.

"This whole situation has gotten completely out of control," Rachel tells her. "Mr. Schuester just accused me of hitting you."

"What?"

"You heard me. Quinn's got Mr. Schuester involved. No more. End this."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll talk to Q tomorrow."

"Just so you know," Rachel says. "You're cut off until you fix this."

"What? Rach, come on."

"While I've gained significant sympathy towards your plight of usually being the villain in our relationship, I fear we're heading in a dangerous direction."

"Yeah, if Mr. Schue is involved, that's probably true," Santana agrees. "I'll get it figured out."

"Damn straight," Rachel snarks before quickly hanging up.

**…**

The next morning, Santana pulls Quinn into the bathroom to clear things up. It only takes an angry glare from both of them to clear the room of any lingering lowly nobodys.

"What the fuck, Fabray? You went to Schue? I told I was kidding."

"You're just trying to cover it up," Quinn replies. "I did some research. Abused women will tell whatever lie necessary to not admit it."

"Or in my case, because it's not true."

"Then why did you… your response on Monday morning seemed so telling," Quinn says.

"I was just fucking with you," Santana replies. "It's fun."

"Fun? That's your answer? You were just screwing with me. Because it's fun?"

"Why are you surprised? I do that all the time."

"You used to," Quinn says. "But it's been a while since you have. Which is what makes me believe Berry is beating you."

"Change isn't always bad."

"I want my friend back," Quinn tells her. "I miss you."

"Maybe if you'd stop ripping on my girlfriend, we'd see each other more."

"God," Quinn groans. "Even after all this time, I cannot handle that you're dating Berry. I just can't. I'm sorry."

"Why the fuck not?"

"I don't know. Because she's Rachel fucking Berry! _Any_one else would have been better."

"Well too fucking bad, Q," Santana replies. "You don't chose who you love. You just do."

"I don't want to hear about it."

"Well then, how about this?" Santana tries. "Rachel and I are together. And you need to deal with it. Then you and I can go back to being friends. And then you'll realize that she's not hitting me or anything crazy like that."

Quinn shakes her head slightly. "We'll see."

**…**

Emma looks up at a knock on her office door.

"You got a moment for some student related counseling?" Will asks.

"I suppose so."

"I think I might have a student in an abusive relationship," Will begins. "But I can't get her to admit it. I'm worried."

"Well, direct confrontation rarely works. People usually feel like they're being attacked and jump to defensive mode."

"What do you suggest?"

"She needs to feel safe," Emma explains. "That you're not accusing her of anything."

"If I know who the abuser is, should I confront them?"

"I'm not sure if that's a wise idea," Emma says. "What if he lashes out? Either at you or the girl?"

"Maybe," Will allows. "It's just she seems so level headed. I can't imagine her beating up anyone."

"I understand." Her? "Wait. What?"

Will sighs. "I think Rachel Berry is abusing Santana Lopez."

Emma's mouth moves, but no words come out.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" she manages, finally.

"I think that Rachel's hitting Santana."

"What could possibly make you think that?" Emma asks.

"Santana has a cut lip and a black eye. She won't say where it came from. Plus she was so defensive about it. I'm not the only one who's worried. Quinn Fabray is the one that brought it to my attention."

"I suppose you confronted Rachel, too?" Emma questions, trying not to feel frustrated at her colleague's actions.

He looks sheepish at the question, but nods. "I couldn't help it. It was after glee and it just sort of happened."

"And how did that go?"

"Not so well," Will admits.

"I'll set up a meeting with Santana and hopefully she'll be willing to talk about it with me."

"And Rachel?"

"You think I should meet with Rachel as well?"

"I'd prefer it," Will replies. "It'd be nice to hear her side of the story. And I want to help them both. Rachel admitting she may have a problem is a good thing, right?"

"Yes, of course," Emma says. "Admitting you have a problem is always a great first step, but I'm more concerned about removing Santana from a harmful situation. That should be the first priority."

"Okay. Yes, you're right. So you'll meet with Santana and hopefully she'll admit that she needs help."

"Hopefully, yes."

"Emma, I really appreciate your help."

"Of course," Emma replies. "It is my job, after all."

"Still," Will says. "I want you to know, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

"Well, I better go," Will says, backing out of the office slowly. "Classes to teach."

Part Two

Despite knowing this whole beating thing isn't close to over, Rachel is trying to ignore it. She hopes she's wrong and that Santana has gotten through to Quinn. She's finding this whole thing very distracting and disturbing.

What really gets to Rachel though is the fact that once again Mr. Schuester doesn't believe in her, actually thinks she would do such a thing. Even though she gave up on her supposed mentor a while ago, it still hurts.

Rachel knows she's bossy, driven, conceited, intense, demanding and a bit self centered. But girlfriend beater she certainly is not. And it really hurts that anyone would believe it. Especially Mr. Schuester. Though maybe she _shouldn't_ be surprised. He has continually let her down time and again.

She can't believe Quinn went to Mr. Schue of all people though. Rachel would have thought Quinn's instincts would have been to go to Coach Sylvester. Though, what Quinn really craves is a caring father figure to solve all her problems, so of course Mr. Schue fits that bill perfectly. Coach Sylvester is who you go to when you need something _taken care of_.

Maybe Rachel should go to Coach Sylvester. She'd certainly put the kibosh on this whole thing.

That will be Rachel's last resort. She's not using up her favor on this nonsense. That favor is way too valuable to just throw away like that. Maybe if Santana goes to her instead. She'll have to mention that to her girlfriend later.

**…**

"Thank you for coming, Santana," Emma says just as the lunch bell rings.

Santana just glares. This has gotten completely out of control. "I'm here under protest."

"Well, I certainly appreciate both your candor and you showing up, even if you didn't want to."

"Yippee," Santana mutters.

"I just wanted to touch base with you," Emma begins. "See how you're doing."

"Is this a new thing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Because you've never check in with me before," Santana continues. "Or are you just _really_ slowly going through the whole school?"

"Mr. Schuester has some concerns," Emma explains. "And since you didn't want to talk to him about it, we both thought I might be a better choice."

"I'm fine."

"Your lip and your eye?"

"Aren't anything to be concerned about," Santana tells her.

"If someone's hurting you or threatening you, Santana, we can help you. I know it might seem like you're alone in all this, but you're not."

"No one's hurting or threatening me. Like I said, I'm fine."

"Then why won't you tell anyone what happened this weekend?"

"Because it's none of your business," Santana replies. "_I'm_ fine."

"Okay. Okay."

"Can I go now?"

"Of course. But remember, if you ever need to talk, my door is always open."

Santana just stands and stalks out.

**…**

Once again, Rachel finds herself in Figgins' office.

"Well, Ms. Berry, I'm hoping you've come to the correct decision," he says.

"It's only been twenty-seven hours."

"That's plenty of time for an intelligent student as yourself to decide."

"If that's true, then my answer is, no thank you," Rachel replies.

"I see you need more time to think," Figgins says. "Very well. I hope you're taking everything into consideration as you make this decision."

"I'd really rather not do this."

"We'll touch base again later this week," Figgins continues.

"Right. May I go to lunch now?"

"Of course."

**…**

The end of lunch bell has just rung when Will knocks on Emma's door. She looks up and waves him in. He closes the door behind him.

"How'd it go?" he asks.

Emma sighs. "As well as I expected it to go. She says there's nothing wrong."

"But there is," Will insists.

"That may be true, Will," Emma says. "But if she denies it, there's very little else you can do."

"Until she gets seriously hurt or worse?"

"Will," Emma says. "Let me ask you. Do you really believe that Rachel would do such a thing? She and Santana seem to be great together. Is it possible that Quinn got something confused?"

"She's Santana best friend other than Brittany," Will replies. "She has to know her well enough to judge that sort of thing. Don't you think?"

"I suppose that's usually true," Emma agrees. "But in this case, are you really sure? I've sensed some… tension between them lately."

"I have too, but that doesn't diminish _years_ of friendship."

"Things are different for high school girls, Will," Emma tells him.

"I know that."

"You can't apply your adult _male_ logic," she continues.

"I _know_."

"Also, the logic of someone in an abusive relationship is different. You're still using _your_ logic to approach things. It won't help you."

"Emma," Will says. "I know these kids. I'll admit I don't know Santana as well as some of the others, but that's more because she's a Cheerio than anything else." He nods. "Actually, I think I know exactly what will help."

"I'm afraid to ask."

"But before that, I was hoping you could maybe talk to Rachel."

"Will, I don't think that's such a good idea," Emma protests.

"Why not? You've talked to Rachel before. You seem to have a good rapport with her. Well, as much as anyone _can_. I think you might be able to get through to her."

Emma sighs again. "Fine." It's easier to agree than to keep arguing. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. But, Will I make no promises."

"Thanks Emma. I really appreciate it."

She nods.

And then he's gone, off to do more Will Schuester type things.

**…**

Rachel finds a note in her locker asking her to stop by Ms. Pillsbury's office. As if she doesn't know what _that's_ about. She sighs; she might as well go because not going will make her look guilty.

She doesn't bother knocking, just enters and slides into a chair.

"I see you found my note," Ms. Pillsbury says.

"Look, you managed to pick the one day where I'm not extensively busy, so you get ten minutes," Rachel replies. "Nonetheless, I would appreciate it if you would cut to the chase." Rachel crosses her arms across her chest. "As if I don't know what this is about," she mutters.

This has apparently flustered Ms. Pillsbury, because she flutters a moment before speaking. "Yes, well, as you're aware, there have been some concerns about your relationship with Santana."

"And while we both appreciate the sudden and startling adult concern, it's not necessary," Rachel replies. "This all started because my damn girlfriend wanted to trick her best friend. And it's spiraled out of control."

"No one's accusing you of anything Rachel. But neither of you have provided an explanation for Santana's injuries."

"Nor should we have to," Rachel snaps. "There haven't been any other signs. One isolated incident does not concern make. Mr. Schue is simply latching onto something one of his favorites has said and is behaving like a dog with a bone."

"I'm sure Mr. Schuester doesn't have favorites," Ms. Pillsbury tries.

"If he doesn't have favorites, then I don't own any argyle."

"Rachel, I realize Mr. Schuester is harder on you than others, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care."

"Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel says. "I know he cares. However, he only cares because he has to as a teacher and because I am a talented singer. It's certainly not because he likes me as well as he does Finn or Quinn."

"It just seems that way because they went through so much last year," Ms. Pillsbury replies.

"Look, can we just move on from Mr. Schue?" Rachel asks. "Santana's injuries have a perfectly logical and reasonable explanation. However, she's not comfortable sharing them and therefore, she has asked me to keep silent. I, of course, have done so because she asked, despite my increasing ire over this absurd situation. I can promise you that she is not being threatened, hurt, beaten or abused that I know of."

"Rachel…"

"And I resent the fact that no one seems to believe me. Why is it in all the years I've attended this institution, you've never stood up for me when I was the target of scorn and ridicule. Nor did, Mr. Schue. This all feels like too little too late."

"Perhaps we should schedule another meeting," Ms. Pillsbury says. "You seem to be harboring some previously unseen anger that may need addressing."

"Please don't pyscho-analyze me, Ms. Pillsbury. It is unnecessary and I hesitate to acknowledge your qualifications."

"Rachel, just because you're upset, doesn't mean you need to be rude."

"I'm being tactless," Rachel replies. "There's a difference."

"Do you think if both you and Santana were to talk to me it would help?"

"There's nothing to discuss," Rachel tells her. "Santana and I are fine. Our relationship is fine and you have nothing to worry about. I don't know how many times I can repeat that before someone believes me."

"This is a safe environment, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury continues as if Rachel hadn't spoken. "Nothing you say here will be judged or mocked."

"I'm not sure you know how to mock someone, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel says. "You're too nice."

"Thank you?"

"I need to get going, so I'm going to do that," Rachel says, standing. "I thank you for your concern, no matter how unfounded. I also apologize, it seems I've let my indignation take over, which I'm not proud of. However, that being said, please drop this whole thing. It's unnecessary and a waste of time."

"Rachel, we're not done yet."

"I have somewhere I need to be," Rachel tells her. "Bye Ms. Pillsbury."

And before Ms. Pillsbury can say anything else, Rachel is gone.

**…**

That night, Brittany is woken up by her cell phone. She glances over and sees that it's three in the morning. Quickly, she grabs her phone, worried there's an emergency.

"Hello?"

"Britt, I'm sorry to call so late. Nothing's wrong."

"Hi Rach, that's okay. I was just sleeping."

"I imagine so," Rachel says. "Listen, are you up for pulling a quick small prank?"

"I just need to get dressed."

"Excellent," Rachel replies. "I'm waiting outside."

**…**

Thursday morning before school starts, Sue finds her office full of people she doesn't want in her office.

"Q," Sue begins. "What is the meaning of dragging Curly and Bambi in here?"

"I'm sorry Coach," Quinn says. "We have no one else to turn to."

"Is that true, William?" Sue asks with a smirk. "You actually need _my_ help?"

"If this wasn't about a student, I wouldn't be here," Will snaps.

"Fine. Let's hear the problem that William Schuester can't solve."

Emma, knowing she has to separate Will and Sue as soon as possible, begins. "You've seen Santana's appearance this week? The, uh, injuries?"

"I have," Sue nods.

"Well, we have some concerns," Emma continues. "Quinn believes that Santana is being beaten."

Sue lets out a bark of laughter. "Who would dare? That bitch would just kick 'em in the balls."

"She probably does have balls," Quinn grumbles.

"Um, Quinn seems to think it's Rachel's doing, actually," Emma says.

This actually wipes the smirk off Sue's face. "Please repeat that."

"I think Berry has been beating on Santana," Quinn tells her.

Sue looks at Will. "And you agree with her assessment?"

He nods. "I do."

"Despite Berry's lack of violent nature?"

"We have other evidence," Will says.

"Such as?"

"We've all tried asking Santana where the injuries came from and she refuses to say. The same with Rachel. When we ask her, she clams up as well. And Quinn even tried asking Brittany, but it was confusing at best."

"So you're basing it on a cut lip and a refusal to ask questions?" Sue probes.

"Just think about it, Coach," Quinn says. "Santana's been weird ever since she started dating the midget. Add that and it totally makes sense."

Sue looks between Will and Emma for a moment and then to Quinn. Then back at Will. "My girl here just insulted your star loser and you're not going to say anything?"

"She's said worse," Will replies. "And that's not the issue."

"I'm finding this situation, very interesting," Sue says.

"We just thought you might be able to get through to Santana," Emma says. "She seems to resent our involvement."

"Imagine that."

"Please Coach," Quinn says. "I'm worried about S."

"I'm sure you are, Q." Sue eyes them all. "But I don't have time to talk about this. I have an important conference call happing in…" Sue looks at her watch. "Less than five minutes. Out of my office."

"Sue, you have to be concerned about this."

"I am, indeed, William. But like I said, I don't have time at the moment."

"Will, let's go," Emma says. "Sue will deal with it as she sees fit. We both know it."

"See? Uma here, knows."

Emma leaves first, followed by an agitated looking Will and finally a pleading Quinn.

**…**

That morning, the students of McKinley enter to find a neon orange six inch wide stripe painted on the floor. It's perfectly straight and just seems to keep going. A lot of people ignore it; but Finn doesn't need to be anywhere this particular second, so he follows it. Head down, staring, he does his best to not bump into too many people. Being tall is an advantage at the moment, because almost everyone sees him coming.

There are a few others walking with him, obviously curious as well. They're following him and the stripe, though not as diligently as he is. The longer it goes on, his paranoia grows. What if there's some cruel joke at the end of it? He knows Rachel did, but why? What could be at the end? Is he going to have something dropped on him?

The longer he follows it, the more Finn wonders why he's following it. The length makes him think that there's something horrible at the end. But he's already come this far and his curiosity is growing.

The ringing of the bell draws him out of his stripe following haze and he looks around at the students flooding into the hall. Checking his watch, he sees that he's spent first period following the stripe. How is it that he hasn't found the end yet?

"Finn," Kurt's voice cuts into his thoughts. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out this stripe," Finn replies. "I just want to find the end."

"Uh, how long have you been following it?" Kurt asks.

"Since I got here. I can't believe how big this school is," Finn says. "I mean, I've been following it forever and I still haven't found the end."

Kurt shakes his head. He can't believe his step brother sometimes. "Finn, I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't end."

"It has to eventually," Finn insists. "Lines have beginnings and ends."

"They do," Kurt nods. "But circles don't."

"What?"

"The stripe circles the whole school and then comes back and meets up where it started."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Kurt says.

"So I've been following this stripe for nothing?"

"I guess."

"Great," Finn says. "That's really great." He stomps off angrily.

**…**

Kurt has been searching for Mercedes since before school started. He knows he could call her, but this is something that requires face time. He wouldn't be able to properly discuss it over text, besides his first period teacher would have taken his phone. He's done it before.

Running into Finn is distracting, but amusing; though Kurt's not sure if Finn's mad at him for point it out or at himself for being so gullible.

Spotting Mercedes down the hall, Kurt pushes his way through the thongs of students until he reaches her.

"You will not believe what I overheard this morning," he tells her.

"What?"

Looking around the crowded hallway, Kurt decides this isn't the place to talk. "Come on."

**…**

"You're a real bitch, you know that, right," Finn says when he finds Rachel at her locker.

"I do," Rachel replies. "But what makes you say that today?"

"That orange stripe?"

"What about it?"

"I spent all first period trying to find the end. And then Kurt tells me that it's just a circle."

"Didn't you notice that you were walking by the same things over and over?" Rachel questions.

"I was looking at the stripe."

"Obviously," Rachel says, wryly. "But how does that relate to me being a bitch?"

"Because you did it," Fin hisses. "Prankster."

"You're allowed to believe what you like, Finn."

"How could you do that to me?" Finn asks.

"Not everything is about you, Finn." Rachel closes her locker. "I have to go to class."

Finn is left staring after her.

**…**

In the relative privacy of the choir room, Kurt sits, eager to share.

"So?"

"I was walking by Coach Sylvester's office this morning, after practice and I overheard Quinn, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury tell Coach that Rachel is beating Santana."

"What?"

"I know. But that's what they said."

"It has to be some kind of joke."

"Apparently not," Kurt replies. "Coach said she'd look into it."

"What does that mean?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't think she's taking it as seriously as Quinn and Mr. Schue are."

"Do you think it's true?"

"I have no idea," Kurt replies. "But it has to be if Mr. Schue actually went to Coach for help. He hates her."

"True."

They sit in silence, absorbing the information.

"Do you think we should do something?" Mercedes asks.

"Like?"

"I don't know. We could try talking to Rachel about it."

"Is that such a good idea?" Kurt asks. "What if she reacts badly?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Mercedes answers. "Of course she's going to react badly. But we'll get a few of us together and we'll try talking to her about it. As long as we she knows we're only trying to help, it'll hopefully be okay."

"All right. When?"

**…**

"What the fuck, Fabray?" Puck growls when Quinn finally lets go of his shirt.

He'd been at his locker when the blonde had swept by and dragged him into an empty classroom.

"We need to talk."

"Obviously." About what?"

"Berry. And Santana."

"Yeah? And?"

"Why haven't you done anything to stop it?" Quinn asks.

"Stop what?"

"The abuse."

"Who's getting beat up?" Puck questions.

"_Santana_. Rachel's using Santana as a punching bag."

Puck starts laughing.

Quinn slugs him in the arm. "It's definitely not funny, Puckerman."

"It _is_. It's hilarious that you think Rachel is beating Santana."

"What else am I supposed to think?" Quinn asks. "She shows up Monday looking like she was in a fight and won't tell anyone what happened."

"Maybe it's none of your damn business, Quinn."

"I'm worried about her."

"Why is Rachel naturally the bad guy?" Puck asks. "Maybe Lopez and I got into it this weekend?"

"Ha! Then you'd be the one limping around, not her."

"Oh. So Santana can take me, but not Rachel?"

"That's different."

"Have you shared this theory with Santana?" Puck asks.

"I have," Quinn nods.

"I take it, it didn't go well?"

"It didn't."

"Denied it?"

Quinn nods.

"But you can't let it go?"

"I'm worried about her," Quinn says.

"Rachel would never do anything like that," Puck tells her.

"Then why won't they tell me what happened this weekend?"

"Them? You talked to Rachel too?"

Quinn nods again.

"Bet that went well."

Quinn shakes her head.

"You shouldn't have done that," Puck says. "What do you have against Rachel?"

"I'm worried about Santana," Quinn defends. "She's my best friend-at least she was before _Berry_ stepped in."

"She still would be, if you'd just be nicer to Rach."

"Gotta protect your bro, huh," Quinn mocks. "You're such an asshole."

"Yeah I am," Puck replies. "But not because of that, Fabray. Do you really think that if my girl was a wife beater, we'd be bros? Hell no."

"Well that makes me feel better," Quinn says, voice full of sarcasm.

"It should," Puck insists. "The Puckster has standards, after all."

"Barely."

"Whatever. Are we done here?"

"Why? It's not like you go to class," Quinn says.

"Well, I'm definitely not going to just stand here and let you rip on my bro. And since you obviously don't believe me, we're kinda at an impasse."

"Jeez, is there anyone that Berry hasn't infected?"

"I'm out of here. Later, Fabray." Puck stalks out, leaving Quinn alone in the empty classroom.

**…**

Brittany's pleased with the results of the stripe. More people have fallen for it than she thought would. And for longer than she thought.

Then there's Finn Hudson. He spent all of third complaining about how much time he wasted following it. Apparently he circled the school three and a half times before Kurt pointed it out to him. Brittany is barely able to keep her laughter in. Luckily he's too pissed to notice the huge grin on her face.

**…**

Rachel realizes that pulling another prank actually made her situation with Figgins worse. At the time, she didn't care. She'd been so irritated that it hadn't crossed her mind. But sitting in his office during lunch, she regrets her hastiness.

"…must have heard something," he says.

"People are either speculating on why it was done or laughing at their friends who fall for it," Rachel replies. "That's it."

"I still can't find any physical evidence of anyone. I just don't understand how it's possible for no physical signs as well as no rumors or gossip about it."

"I'm sure there's gossip," Rachel says. "Though it's mostly speculation, I think."

"Well let's hear it."

"I'd rather not."

"I just need something, anything to go on," Figgins says.

"I'm not going to implicate someone off of rumors," Rachel replies.

"It's not an implication," Figgins tells her. "It'll simply bring up the name or names of someone who needs to have an eye kept on them."

"Like what happened with me? When you read in some blog that I'm the culprit? Because that interrogation was certainly fair."

"That was a unique situation that got slightly out of hand. I admit I handled it badly."

"Please stop asking me, Principal Figgins," Rachel says. "I can't tell you anything, must less what you want to know."

They stare at each other over the desk. Figgins blinks first.

"Fine. Thank you for your time, Ms. Berry," he says. "You're dismissed. However, I do not consider these circumstances dealt with. We will be revisiting them."

"It'll be a waste of time," Rachel says, standing.

"Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Berry."

Rachel nods once and walks out.

**…**

Kurt feels quite fortunate that Rachel isn't at lunch. This gives him and Mercedes the perfect opportunity to plan an intervention. He figures it can happen before glee, since Rachel's always early.

He looks around the table, picking and choosing who should be there and who would make things worse. He's pretty sure Puck would be on Rachel's side. Brittany is a toss up. As Santana's best friend, she would want to protect Santana, but she's also friends with Rachel. Finn would definitely make things worse. Tina's voice of reason would be welcomed; and she gets along with Rachel. As does Artie. Mike's always good for moral support.

So he just needs to keep Finn and Puck away and things should go smoothly. Now he just needs to figure out how to make it happen.

**…**

Rachel spends her remaining lunch time in the choir room. However, not wanting to interact with anyone she sits in the corner, out of sight of the door, behind chairs and instruments. She feels rather juvenile doing so, but her need to be alone supersedes it.

She knew pulling a prank would only result in her being dragged into Figgins' office, but she'd let her frustration override the logical part of her brain. It's something that's been happening a lot more lately. She blames her girlfriend.

The problem is she just wants to pull another prank; which will, of course, just make her problem worse.

So instead, she brainstorms how she's going to convince Mr. Schue and Quinn that she does not in fact beat her girlfriend.

Twenty minutes later when the end of lunch bell rings, she has no solutions.

**…**

When Rachel walks into the choir room, she knows something she doesn't want to deal with is about to happen. It's written all over Kurt and Mercedes' face. It's probably the fake grins plastered on their faces.

"Hey guys," Rachel says.

"Rachel," Kurt replies. "We're glad you're here. There's something we wanted to talk to you about."

"All of you?" Rachel asks. Because it's odd that so many people actually beat her here. Looking around, the only people missing are Quinn, Puck, Finn and Santana.

"Yes, all of us."

"Okay."

"I, uh, overheard something rather unpleasant this morning," Kurt begins. "And after discussing it with Mercedes, we decided we want to help."

Rachel just nods, waiting.

"Apparently Quinn, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury think _you're_ the reason for Santana looking like she lost a fight this weekend."

Rachel groans. It really isn't her week.

"Now," Kurt continues, hastily, taking Rachel's aggravation for something else. "We're not trying to jump to conclusions. We swear. But we do have some concerns. And we figured the best way to deal with this is to just confront them head on."

"Of course," Rachel says, sarcastically.

"And so we thought we'd approach you and get your side of the story."

"My side of the story?" Rachel questions. "That makes it sound like I did something wrong."

"Nobody's saying that," Mercedes says. "We just want to get your input on this situation."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say," Rachel replies. "It's not true. Though no one seems to believe that."

"Then why won't you tell us what really happened this weekend?" Kurt asks.

"No."

No one knows how to respond to that.

"Good. Now that that's settled," Rachel says. "May I warm up now?"

"You can't simply refuse and not expect us to react," Mercedes says.

"But no one did react," Rachel points out.

"Rachel," Tina tries. "I'm not saying you did it. Trust me. Just tell them and then we can move on."

"Look guys. I'm sure Santana appreciates the support, but I didn't hit her. I've never hit her. She's fine."

"Your reluctance to talk about this weekend is troubling me," Artie comments.

"Definitely. Right?" Kurt adds.

Rachel sighs. "I hate this week," she mutters.

"You guys are nuts," Brittany pipes up. "Rach would never hit Santana."

"Then what happened this weekend?" Mercedes asks.

Brittany just shrugs.

"That, unfortunately, is not comforting," Artie says.

"It's not?" Brittany asks.

"No."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Anyway," Kurt says. "We're back to square one."

"You guys really think I'm a girlfriend beater?" Rachel questions.

"We don't know," Mercedes answers. "That's why we're asking."

"You all think that?"

No one says anything.

"Tina? Really?" Rachel continues.

"I don't know what to think Rachel," Tina replies.

"Artie?"

"I'm here for support and to find out what exactly is going on," Artie tells her.

"Mike?"

"Kurt said he needed moral support," Mike replies. "But I don't know what to think."

"And Brittany's here because?"

"I want to be."

The choir room door swings open and Quinn strolls in.

"What's going on?"

"Is there anyone you haven't told that I'm a girlfriend beater, Quinn?" Rachel asks.

"What? No. I haven't-what?"

"We were just discussing what happened this weekend," Kurt explains. "I overheard something rather unpleasant this morning after practice and we're just trying to get to the bottom of it."

Quinn has the decency to look embarrassed. "Heard that, did you?"

"I happened to be walking by," Kurt tells her. "Besides, why are you embarrassed? You're worried about Santana. That's nice."

Rachel snorts.

"_It is_," Kurt says, glaring at Rachel.

"Quinn and nice don't belong in the same paragraph," Rachel mutters.

"Has she admitted it yet?" Quinn asks.

"_No_," Rachel says. "Because there's nothing to admit."

"Says you," Quinn shoots back.

"It's the truth," Rachel insists.

Quinn and Rachel are now standing toe to toe, eyes locked in a hateful glare.

"Okay then," Quinn says. "Answer this for me. Did you make Santana get a tattoo?"

"What if I did?"

"A tattoo that says, **Rachel Berry's Bitch**?"

Some gasps. Rachel thinks it's Kurt, but she can't be sure with her eyes still locked with Quinn's.

"Holy shit," Mercedes mutters.

"Maybe there's more validity to this than I thought," Artie whispers to Tina and Mike.

Mike nods.

"Yes," Rachel confirms. "And?"

"I think that's all the evidence we need," Quinn announces.

"That tattoo proves nothing," Rachel tells her. "I have one that's _just_ as possessive."

"Which you got to counter hers," Quinn replies. "Whose idea were the tattoos?"

"You mean who came up with the design?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah."

Rachel sighs. This is going to seal it for Quinn. "I did."

"See?" Quinn is triumphant.

"How do you know the whole thing wasn't Santana's idea? And then I just made it more succinct?"

Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Mike and Artie look back at Brittany to see if she's confused by the use of 'succinct', but she doesn't seem to be. They all face forward, mildly confused.

"Oh please," Quinn says. "Santana might have mentioned getting tattoos, but I'm pretty sure _you_ made it happen."

"Actually Puck is the one that found the tattoo artist," Brittany interrupts.

"Yeah, but who asked him to?" Quinn questioned.

"I didn't ask him," Rachel replies. "We were discussing it and he said he knew someone. I simply requested Santana's presence."

"Yeah, but did you ask her about what it was going to be or did you just tell her?" Quinn pushes.

"She's the one that wanted tattoos," Rachel says. "It was her possessive streak that was pushing."

"And yet _hers_ is the most possessive thing I've ever seen."

"Mine doesn't exactly declare me a free agent," Rachel points out. "Why didn't I just make _her_ get one?"

"To fool us," Quinn counters. "When we all found out about _your_ tattoo, never once did you mention _hers_."

"So? I was worried _you'd_ make fun of her."

"Or you knew I'd see what it _really_ means."

The girls go back to glaring at each other.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Mike comments.

"We're never going to figure this out," Kurt adds.

"I think we're losing sight of the real issue here," Brittany says.

"What's that?" Tina asks.

"It seems to me that we're experiencing a real quandary."

Everyone, but Rachel stares at Brittany. Quinn and Kurt's jaws actually drop.

"I mean," Brittany continues. "Rachel's going to continue denying it and you guys are going to keep not believing her. The only way out is for Rach to lie and say she _did_ do it, but then that leads to another kind of dilemma."

"I agree," Rachel says. "We're at an impasse."

"So we do nothing?" Kurt asks.

"We need to figure out a sure fire way to determine who's telling the truth," Brittany suggests.

"Like what?" Mercedes asks.

Everyone takes a moment to think that over.

The choir room door opens and Mr. Schuester walks in with Santana, Puck and Finn trailing behind him.

"Uh, hi guys," Mr. Schue says. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Rachel replies. "We're simply waiting for glee to start."

He looks around the room. Quinn and Rachel are still facing off. Brittany is in the back row looking bored. Artie, Tina and Mike are sitting in the front row watching while Kurt and Mercedes are hovering around Quinn and Rachel.

"Okay…"

"I think it'd be prudent if we started," Rachel says. "Don't you, Mr. Schue?

"I suppose so. Why you all have a seat and we'll just jump right in."

**…**

Glee is as close to being a disaster it can be without Rachel storming out, Finn hurting anyone while dancing, Kurt complaining or any sort of singing competition. For that, Will is grateful. However, the tension in the room is so thick, he's choking on it. His ability to sing is actually being suppressed by all the anxiety and aggravation in the room.

He wonders what he missed. It's obvious _some_thing happened before practice started, but he's afraid to ask. He wonders if that makes him a coward.

**…**

Santana's surprised when Mercedes holds her back after practice. They've never really gotten along or even interacted.

"Listen, girl," she begins. "I know it might not be my place, but I still gotta say it. If you ever need a place to crash or hide out, you know where to find me."

"All right…"

"I just meant that if maybe you were afraid of being found or needed to get away from everything and everyone, I don't mind if you stop by."

"I'll keep that in mind," Santana says, hesitantly.

"It's just I've heard… things. And I wanted you to know I'm in your corner. We all are."

"Thanks. But I'm fine."

"I'm not saying you're not," Mercedes quickly replies. "I'm just saying if it ever gets not fine, I'm here."

"Right. Okay. Well, I'm gonna go. Don't want to keep Rach waiting."

"Definitely. Definitely don't want to keep her waiting or get her mad."

"See you tomorrow," Santana says. She then quickly exits, shooting an odd look over her shoulder.

**…**

"Do you think that was enough?" Mercedes asks Kurt.

They're going back to his place to study and hang out.

Kurt glances over as he drives. "It's all we can do really, right? I mean, Mr. Schue is involved. And Coach Sylvester. Surely they're better equipped to deal with this, right?"

"I guess. I just feel like we should be doing more."

"Isn't that always true?" Kurt muses.

They drive in silence for a whole minute before Mercedes says, "Can you believe Santana has a tattoo proclaiming herself as Rachel's bitch?"

"I know, right? I don't know what's more surprising, _that_ or Brittany's use of the word quandary."

"We should have just skipped glee and kept talking. Imagine what else we would have learned," Mercedes replies.

"I'm not sure how many more deep dark secrets I can take," Kurt tells her. "What if we find out Mr. Schue performs _It's Raining Men_ on the weekend in Cleveland as the drag queen, Luscious Lucinda?"

"Ahhh! Why would you think that?" Mercedes asks. "Now I'm going to have nightmares tonight."

**…**

Santana knows Rachel's pissed at her. Her girlfriend hasn't spoken since they got into the car. Santana doesn't know why, though. She does know it's only a matter of time before Rachel lets her know.

However, it isn't until they're in Rachel's bedroom that she says anything

"Well, I hope you're happy. Everyone things I'm a wife beater."

"If we're married, then you owe me a ring."

"You know what I mean," Rachel snaps.

"Who knew Quinn would get Mr. Schue involved," Santana muses.

"Yes, well, I'm glad you're amused."

"It's nice not being the bad guy for once," Santana comments. "That's what's bugging you, isn't it?"

"What?"

"You don't want them to think badly of you. You like being thought of as innocent."

"Maybe a little," Rachel admits. "It helps with the Prankster thing. And it feels nice to know people care."

"It really does," Santana agrees.

"It's just unfortunate that one of us has to be the bad guy for that to happen."

"Yeah. Maybe next time we can pretend Hudson beat us up," Santana suggests.

"I wish that didn't appeal to me so much," Rachel says.

"He's a lying, pathetic, weak excuse for a boyfriend," Santana replies. "Kicking him to the curb was the second smartest thing you've done."

"And the first?" Rachel asks, amused.

"Dating me, of course."

"Of course. But you're still cut off."

"You can't be serious. I talked to Quinn. It's not my fault it was after she'd talked to Mr. Schue."

"You shouldn't have started it in the first place," Rachel says.

"What? So you get to pull outlandish pranks at school and I can't even do a mini mind fuck on Quinn? How is that fair?"

"Because my pranks don't result in you being thought of negatively."

"Being lectured by Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury? Yeah, it sucks," Santana agrees. "And sure, having the others think badly of you sucks more. But I survived. You will too."

"Yes, but those confrontations with you weren't started by me."

"I made a mistake," Santana says. "I'm sorry. The next time I try to fuck with Q, I'll just tell her she's fat. Okay?"

"That seems mean," Rachel replies. "Couldn't you just shave her head?"

"How is _that_ not mean?"

"I don't know. But I'd pay money to see it."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Santana asks.

"Yes. But I'm still annoyed."

"Okay then."

**…**

Knowing Quinn and Mr. Schuester talked to Coach Sylvester, Rachel isn't surprised when she and Santana are pulled into Coach's office by two freshmen Cheerios.

"I'm sure you both know why you're here," Coach says once they're seated.

They both nod.

"Normally, I wouldn't care. But when it results in surprise visits from my curly haired nemesis, it's time for me to become involved."

"Who would have guessed Mr. Schue would actually come to _you_ for help," Rachel comments.

"I assume this was _your_ doing," Coach says to Santana.

"Why me?"

"Because you were trying to fuck with Q. Why else?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And Berry wouldn't have started it. There's nothing for her to gain from it."

Rachel nods in agreement.

"It just got out of hand," Santana says. "I thought for sure Quinn would figure out that I was kidding."

"You should know that giving her another reason to hate on Berry will cloud her judgment," Coach replies. "She's gunning for her harder than I'm going after your joke of a Spanish teacher."

"I tried explaining to her that I was joking," Santana defends.

"But you haven't told anyone _why_ you came in looking like you lost a fight," Coach says.

"It doesn't fit with my rep," Santana insists.

"Then why didn't you just lie and say Puckerman dragged you to his stupid fight club?"

Santana just stares as Rachel shakes her head.

"I suppose that would have made sense," Santana grumbles eventually.

"And you," Coach turns to Rachel. "I'm guessing the genius here asked you not to mention her weekend activities."

"She did indeed."

"Your loyalty is admirable."

"Thank you."

"But you're both still idiots."

Santana looks affronted. Rachel just nods.

"The problem is," Rachel begins. "It wasn't planned. If it had been decided before hand, we might have been able to formulate a plan."

"Hey, it just came to me," Santana defends. "I couldn't miss the opportunity. Besides, Q's been such a bear lately, she deserves it."

"Couldn't you have just glued her locker shut?" Rachel questions.

"That's more your style than mine."

"My way gets results," Rachel counters.

"Maybe I'm not looking for those kind of results."

"All right you two," Coach Sylvester interrupts. "Have your little lover's spat another time."

"Sorry Coach," they chime together.

"Good. Now we're going to nip this in the bud, so to speak. Though it's obviously gotten out of hand. Solutions?"

"I really only see one option," Rachel says. "Santana tells everyone she went with Puck to his fight club. And the reason she didn't want to tell anyone was that she was embarrassed that she lost."

"Santana Lopez doesn't lose."

"And we'll be sure to say he was six five, two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle.

"It might be too late for that," Santana admits.

"Then we'll deal with that hurdle when it appears," Rachel says.

"Start with that," Coach Sylvester tells them. "If that doesn't work, then I'll intervene."

"That sounds fair," Rachel says.

"Thanks Coach," Santana adds.

"You owe me, Lopez," Coach Sylvester replies. "Between the two of you, you should be able to better plan these things. Next time, strategize first."

"I will Coach," Santana says.

"Dismissed."

Both Rachel and Santana stand quickly and exit.

**…**

"Maybe we should have gone to Coach Sylvester sooner," Rachel says as they walk towards her locker.

"It just got out of hand very quickly," Santana replies.

"I know. And I can't blame you for wanting to mess with Quinn. I just wish you'd picked a better method."

"Next time, I'll plan ahead, all right?"

"Thank you."

"I'm gonna try to find Q before the bell," Santana says.

"See you at lunch?"

Santana nods before bending in for a kiss and running off before the whistles and hooting begin.

**…**

Santana finds Quinn at her locker.

"Fabray. We need to talk."

"Finally going to admit you need help?"

"Listen, I appreciate your concern. Really. But you're wrong about Rachel," Santana says.

"Prove it."

"I didn't want to tell you because I was embarrassed, okay?"

"That you're letting Berry hit you? That's understandable."

"Last weekend, Puck dragged me to his fight club," Santana says. "I did all right, but I lost the second fight I had."

"What?"

"He was huge, though. Taller than Finnocence and probably twice my weight," Santana continues.

"So your jaw, your cut lip and being sore, is from Puck's fight club?"

"Yeah."

"Jeez, Lopez," Quinn says, smacking her on the arm. "You lost to a guy twice your size? Who cares?"

"It matters to me," Santana replies, rubbing her arm.

"Yeah, well I was really worried about you, you bitch," Quinn continues. "I spent the whole week _worried_ about you. For nothing?"

"It's nice to know you still care," Santana says.

"Whatever Lopez," Quinn replies. "You're on my list for the rest of the week."

"It's Friday," Santana points out.

"What about the tattoo?"

"What tattoo?"

"The one on you hip that proclaims you to be Berry's bitch," Quinn says.

"How do you know about that?"

"I saw it this week after practice. I've been watching you like a hawk," Quinn admits.

"Oh. Well what about it?"

"Berry didn't make you get it?"

"It was my idea to get the tattoos, the exact content was hers," Santana replies.

"Seriously?"

"We're both very jealous possessive people," Santana explains. "This seemed like the easiest solution."

"Really?"

"There might have been alcohol involved," Santana admits. "But I still stand by the decision."

"I'm sorry, S, but I just don't get you and Berry," Quinn says.

"No one does, but Britt. I don't even, sometimes," Santana admits. "But maybe you could try. For me."

"Fine. For you."

**…**

Meanwhile, Puck receives a text from Rachel. He hopes it's plans for tonight. It's been a while since they've had a crazy bro night.

_Santana's telling people her injuries are from going to fight club with you. And that she didn't tell anyone because she was embarrassed she lost. Make sure you say the guy she fought was huge and muscular. Maybe say you're not even sure if YOU could have taken him._

He supposes that's one solution to the ridiculous problem Lopez created. He can get on board. Though he still doesn't understand why she cares if anyone knows she won a chess boxing match. Seems pretty fucking cool to him. But she asked and he complied. He figures he owes her for the other two fifty because he'd fully been expecting to only get back the entry fee. Lopez has her own insane agenda, and who is he to question it.

_Will do, boss._

He slips his phone back in his pocket and strolls down the hall looking for some babes.

**…**

Second period, Rachel almost falls out of her seat in shock when Quinn actually apologizes for thinking she's a girlfriend beater. However, all she does externally is accept the apology. She knows anything else will damage their tenuous Chem lab partnership.

Though Rachel was surprised that the whole competition didn't ruin it already. But she finds as long as it never comes up, Quinn seems fine around her. Hopefully the same will be true of the abuse thing and they can just move on.

**…**

Rachel is conspicuously missing from the glee table at lunch. The others can see Quinn and Brittany at the Cheerios table, but Santana is nowhere to be found.

Without the presence of Rachel, the conversation turns to the abuse allegations.

"I don't think she is," Tina says.

"I don't know," Kurt replies. "There's a lot of evidence."

"Whether she is or she isn't," Mike says. "I'm impressed. Rachel Berry totally tamed Santana Lopez."

"How?" Finn asks.

"Santana's tattoo seems proof enough for me," Mike replies. "There's no way Santana would admit to being _any_one's bitch."

"That's true," Kurt agrees. "It does imply power, or at least influence."

"Wow," Mercedes says. "I never would have pictured Rachel as a…"

"All this time we've been worried about Santana," Kurt says. "But I guess it was Rachel we should have been worried about."

"We still technically don't have proof guys," Tina interjects.

"Some days are weirder than others," Finn mutters loudly.

"So true," Mike agrees.

And then a shadow falls on their table. Everyone looks up to find Coach Sylvester looming over them.

"Listen up future Taco Bell® employees," she says. "I've been hearing some nasty rumors that need to be put to rest."

No one says anything.

"Your useless leader stopped by my office yesterday to tell me that the midget, Berry is the reason for Lopez's bruises this week. I had to laugh because that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. And I once had a philosophical discussion with William Shatner."

"Yeah, but Quinn-"

"Shut it Frankenteen," Coach Sylvester snaps. "I already talked to Q and it's all straightened out. As if anyone could get the jump on Lopez, especially that little ball of energy. So I want you community college rejects to drop it and move on. Don't you have some sort of sappy romantic entanglement to worry about?"

"We were just concerned about Santana, Coach," Mercedes tries.

"And I'm sure if this was an after school special, we'd all be tearfully hugging right now. But there's nothing to worry about and even less to learn from this whole situation. I'm trusting this to be over with. If I have to hear or deal with any aspect of this ridiculousness ever again, you will all pay the consequences."

There's an almost audible gulp heard around the table.

"That is all," Coach Sylvester says. "Return to your pathetic existence." And she leaves, stalking towards the Cheerios' table to traumatize them.

**…**

At the end of the day, Rachel is retrieving the books she needs for the weekend. She's barely two weeks ahead with her school work and she wants to make a little headway this afternoon before Noah shows up for bro night.

"How'd you do it?"

Rachel turns to find Kurt and Mercedes behind her.

"Do what?" Rachel asks.

"We know you're not a girlfriend beater," Mercedes says. "And so we can't figure out how you got Santana fucking Lopez to tattoo **Rachel Berry's Bitch** on her hip."

"She's the one that wanted the tattoos."

"Yeah, but I bet she wasn't picturing that," Kurt replies.

"No, probably not."

"So?"

"I have my ways," Rachel replies.

"Oh god, you don't mean sex, do you?" Kurt groans.

"No, I don't mean sex," Rachel says. "Why do you guys care?"

"It's just not only did you beat Quinn the other week in those ridiculous competitions," Kurt explains. "But you also can make Santana do whatever _you_ want."

"Yes. And?"

"So you're like the most powerful person in the school," Mercedes says. "I mean, the only person not under your thrall is Coach Sylvester."

Rachel smirks.

"I saw that," Kurt exclaims. "Are you saying you have power over Coach Sylvester too?"

"Not at all," Rachel replies. "But she does like me."

"You really are the most powerful person at McKinley," Kurt says in awe.

"You two are exaggerating," Rachel says.

"What would _you_ call someone who controls the most influential people at this school?" Kurt asks.

"I don't know, Kurt," Rachel replies. "Besides, that's not really true. While I might have beat Quinn in _one_ competition, she certainly won't be swayed by me to do one thing or another."

"Deny it all you want, Rachel," Mercedes says. "But we know now."

"Know what?"

"To stay out of your way," Kurt tells her.

"Uh…"

"Unless that's not what you want," Mercedes says hastily.

"Go home guys," Rachel says. "It's Friday. Enjoy your weekend."

"Whatever you say, Rachel," Mercedes replies.

"Have a nice weekend," Kurt adds.

They both back away, smiling a little too widely and Rachel can only shake her head at their antics. She waits until they're out of sight before she closes her locker with a sigh.

Walking to her car, Rachel wonders if she'll ever just be a person to those two. She getting tired of just being a representation in their mind. She wonders if that means they can never really be friends.

Santana would tell her to not even bother; that you can't get everyone to like you. And then she'd question why Rachel cares so much.

Rachel's starting to think her girlfriend is correct. She has Santana. She has Brittany and Noah. And even Coach Sylvester is on her side. It's certainly more than she's ever had. Maybe she should just be content and enjoy the comradely.


	18. Right on Target

**Title:** Right on Target  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Tina, Artie, Kurt, Mercedes  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck, Rachel, Santana and Brittany teach themselves axe throwing.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,300  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Nope.  
><strong>AN:** Everything I know about axe throwing I learned from **Wikipedia** and **Wreckreation Nation**.

Puck is excited. It's been a couple weeks since he's had a bro night with Rachel. And the last few bro nights with Rachel have been mellow, which is cool, but he's been itching for something different.

He stumbled onto the idea earlier in the week. He'd been online, looking up porn. However, once he saw it, the need to seen naked chicks vanished, for the moment. He began researching, a trait learned from Rachel, and planning.

By the time Friday rolls around, he has everything he needs. Eager to get started, he tosses everything in his truck and heads over to Rachel's.

**…**

Arriving at Rachel's Puck jumps out of his truck, runs into the house and up the stairs. He throws Rachel's bedroom door open. "What up bro and hos?"

"Watch it Puckerman," Santana growls

"Noah, have you lost all your manners?" Rachel chastises.

"So I figured out what we're doing tonight, Rach," Puck says, ignoring them both.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Come on, I need to get some stuff out of my truck."

They all follow him downstairs and outside. Opening the back, Puck gleefully pulls out a large axe.

"Becoming a serial killer are we?" Santana asks wryly.

"You're going to chop down trees?" Brittany asks.

"Axe throwing," Puck exclaims. "I got a couple of axes and the target." He points to the large circular piece of wood lying in the bed of the truck.

"Seriously?" Santana questions. "_You_know how to throw axes?"

"I know the basic principals," Puck answers. "I just need a place to practice and Rach has the huge fenced in yard which she already uses for knife throwing.

"If that's what you want to do, Noah," Rachel says. "But no drinking until we're done."

"I'm no dope. I know that much, at least."

"We're totally staying," Santana pipes up.

"What was that Santana?" Rachel asks.

"There's no way in hell that you two are learning to throw axes and not include me."

"I'm fine with that," Rachel says. "Britt?"

"Sounds like fun, Rach."

"Yeah. All right. But then you owe me beer, Lopez." Puck tells her.

"Fine. B and I will go get some while you guys set up. Deal?"

Puck nods.

Santana and Brittany climb into Sananta's car and speed out of the driveway.

"I wish you guys would drive more safely," Rachel comments.

Puck just shrugs and pulls out the wood target. "You still have the wagon?"

Rachel nods. "For the target?"

"For the bag," Puck answers, pointing to the large duffel bag next to the target.

Rachel nods and digs the wagon out of the garage. Puck dumps the blue bag on it. Rachel leads Puck into the backyard, pulling the wagon, while he rolls the target after her.

They pick a corner and Puck leans the target against the fence. He then opens the bag and pulls out the legs, a hammer and nails.

"I figure we could just keep the target here for whenever," he tells Rachel. He then begins attaching the legs.

Rachel meanwhile is digging in the bag. Inside she finds four axes and two hatchets. There are two different sizes of axes.

"I figure the large ones might be tough for you, bro," Puck explains. "So I got two sizes."

"Aw, Noah, that's so sweet."

"I have my moments."

**…**

By the time Santana and Brittany have returned and put the beer in the fridge, everything is ready.

"So how do we do this, Puckerman?" Santana asks.

"Simple." He picks up a large axe and lines himself up with the target. He then lifts it over his head so that the head of the axe is the same height as his shoulders. After taking a couple of breaths, he lifts his arms and throws the axe. It misses the target by a few inches and lodges into the fence.

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

Santana goes to pick the other large axe, but is beaten to it by Brittany. The blonde walks to the throw line and sets herself up. They all watch as she releases and hits the target dead center.

"Damn…" Puck mutters.

"Do that again," Santana says.

Puck pulls the axe out of the target and the other out of the fence and brings it back to Brittany.

She sets herself up again and lets go. This time, it hits just to the right of the target.

"Whoa," Puck says.

Santana goes to pull the axe out and takes it to the throwing line. She sets up and lets go. It hits the third ring in with a thud.

"All right, I'm next before you chicks start to get too good at this," Puck says, grabbing the axe from the target. He walks to the throw line and sets himself up. This time, the axe hits the target with a thud. "Better." He then returns to the target and yanks it from the fourth circle on the target.

Rachel is next and so she grabs the smaller axe. Standing at the line she tries to copy what the others did and lets go. It's smaller size makes it spin faster and it embeds itself near the center.

"That's my girl," Santana says.

They each take turns until they're getting near the bullseye almost every time. Brittany is the only one that can actually hit the bullseye consistently though. Both Puck and Santana try the smaller axes and have more difficulty. But when Rachel tries the larger axe, she almost injuries herself.

When they try the hatchets, it's a different experience. Because of the severe weight change, they end up over throwing quite a bit. Maybe because she's used to the smaller axe, or because of her knife throwing experience, Rachel hits the bullseye again and again.

"Why the hell are you two so good at this?" Puck asks Rachel and Brittany.

"You guys are trying too hard," Brittany says. "Just go with the flow."

"The Zen art of axe throwing?" Santana questions.

"Basically."

**…**

Puck manages to convince Rachel to really drink with them to celebrate how well they did throwing the axes. Though she'll indulge more often than she used to, it still takes a bit of convincing.

Santana went a little overboard with her beer run, managing to get two cases of beer. Puck is beyond impressed and says so. And continues to say so throughout the night as he gets drunker.

They're well into their second case of beer and watching _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_when Brittany exclaims, "We should make a castle."

"Like a model?" Rachel asks.

"No, like the four of us should do a prank together," Brittany explains. "And we should turn the school into a castle."

"Yeah," Puck says. "And we can make it so no one can get in. Maybe have a moat and a drawbridge."

"And a catapult that actually works," Santana adds.

"And cannons," Puck adds.

"Okay," Rachel says.

"Okay?" Santana asks.

"Yes, okay. But I'm not doing all the work. You guys are helping."

"Of course," Brittany says.

"Anything you say, bro."

They spend the rest of the night coming up with plans. When they all finally crawl into Rachel's bed, she has half a notebook filled with ideas, notes and plans.

**…**

The next morning after visiting the bathroom, Rachel picks the notebooks off her desk and flips through it. Despite the drunken state they thought of everything in, a lot of it makes sense to her.

There's plenty that doesn't. At one point Noah had grabbed it from her and drawn what looks like to her a cow being run over by a truck in the middle of a kitchen. She's pretty sure that's not what it is.

There are notes and ideas from all of them. She can make out all the different handwriting and shakes her head at the chaos of it all. They really are a bad influence on her.

Looking over at the tangle of limbs still curled under her blankets, she wouldn't have it any other way. Besides she's influencing them as well, she thinks as she remembers Brittany's use of the words lackadaisical and trepidation the night before.

She's tempted to crawl back into bed and join the cuddle fest; it sounds lovely, but her mind's racing now and she knows there's no going back to sleep. Instead, she leaves the trio sleeping and goes downstairs for some coffee.

**…**

Santana wakes up being spooned by Puckerman with Brittany curled into her chest. For a moment she's confused. She knows she drank a lot, but she's pretty sure she didn't have a threesome. She elbows Puck and he grunts but lets go of her and she's able to sit up.

Looking around Rachel's room, there are no signs of her girlfriend. However, the smell of coffee tells Santana where she might find Rachel. Crawling over Brittany, she heads downstairs.

She finds Rachel sipping coffee, eating orange slices and making notes in the notebook she has vague memories of from last night.

"Morning."

"Good morning, San," Rachel says without looking up. "There's coffee and fruit as usual."

"Thanks." Santana pours herself some coffee and joins Rachel at the table. "What are you doing?"

"Going over the ideas from last night," Rachel replies. "I know we came up with them in a drunken stupor, but I'm starting to think this is really doable."

"Seriously?" Santana asks. "Because I have vague memories of there being talk of a catapult that launches cows like Monty Python."

"I do as well. But that doesn't mean the rest of the ideas aren't sound."

"I guess."

"And I think it would be quite enjoyable for the four of us to attempt this," Rachel continues. "And honestly, I'd like to pull this because Figgins is annoying the piss out of me with his constant questioning."

"Except that every time you do another prank, it results in you being questioned again," Santana points out.

"True," Rachel agrees. "I'm thinking of going to Coach Sylvester for assistance on how to deal with him."

"She'd go with blackmail."

"That's probably true." Rachel stands up and pours herself more coffee. "Maybe I'll have to come up with a plan of my own."

"If anyone can get him to back down, it's you, babe."

**…**

Brittany stumbles downstairs about twenty minutes later, followed by Puck soon after. They drink coffee and talk about the reality of turning McKinley High School into an impenetrable fortress.

"I swear, Rach," Puck says. "I'll do my share. Honest. Because there's no way we're not doing this. It's going to be fucking epic."

"Pucky's right, Rachel," Brittany adds. "We have to do this. The prankster will go down as a legend."

"Yeah, too bad we won't get credit," Santana says.

"Eventually," Rachel says.

"What's that mean?"

"It means that one day everyone will know," Rachel replies. "When we no longer have to worry about suspension or any of that nonsense."

"You have a plan," Puck grins.

"Don't I always?"

**…**

When Brittany and Noah leave a couple hours later, they have a solid plan. It's going to take a few days to get everything together, but Rachel's confident they can pull it off. Normally, she'd worry about Noah's reliability, but when it comes to causing mayhem he's incredibly dependable.

"The real question is are we going to be able to get a hold of everything we need," Santana says, looking over Rachel's list.

"I have faith in us," Rachel replies. "I mean, the stuff we knew we couldn't get a hold of is off the list, isn't it?"

"True."

"What?"

"I just can't believe we're really going to try this," Santana says.

"Are you doubting us?" Rachel asks. "More so, are you doubting my planning skills?"

"I would never."

"It'll work, San," Rachel says. "And then we'll be legends. Knowing we pulled it off will make the rest of the time we spend in this one horse town worth it."

"One horse town?"

"Shut up and kiss me," Rachel tells her, pushing Santana onto her bed.

**…**

Rachel's mildly apprehensive about school this morning, though she keeps it to herself. The week before had been odd. Finn spent a lot of time staring at her with either a dejected expression or anxiousness. Kurt and Mercedes tip toe around her like she's an explosion waiting to happen. Quinn's been nicer, for Quinn, which mostly means no more ridiculous cruel nicknames. Figgins pulled her into his office daily and Mr. Schue has been keeping his distance.

She's hoping that enough time will pass and their concerns will fade. There just needs to be something else crazy or dramatic for them to worry about. Rachel kind of hopes that this huge prank they have planned will help.

**…**

Tuesday, Artie is surprised when Brittany approaches him before lunch, requesting he meet her in the choir room. His mind is going nuts trying to figure out what she might want.

When he arrives, he's surprised her waiting with a notebook, pen and very serious expression on her face.

"You wanted to talk?" he asks.

Brittany nods. "I, um, need help making a remote control."

"You mean like for the TV?"

"More like I want to turn something on and off from across the room."

"Uh… Why?"

"Because."

"Okay," Artie says. "Um, so you want me to like draw it out?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Artie takes the notebook and starts drawing things out. "So you want like an on and off switch or more like a remote control car?"

"Like a remote control car."

"Uh, okay." And he goes back to drawing.

"Thanks, Artie," Brittany says, kissing him on the cheek. "You're the best."

Blushing slightly, Artie replies, "You're welcome."

**…**

The week passes quicker than usual. Between their usual worries and trying to acquire various ridiculous things, it seems like the four days pass in a flash.

This is especially true for Rachel who has to obtain some of the more difficult items. She's not complaining. She knows how to get a hold of odd things. There's plenty of other stuff that Noah is better at finding. She figures it evens out.

However, she's beginning to think this is going to be the last elaborate prank she pulls for a while. All this prep is a lot of work. And there's still the set up to worry about. Thursday is going to be a very long day.

**…**

After glee, Puck follows Santana to Rachel's. It's going to take a lot of work to pull this thing off and so they need time to get everything ready. Puck backs his truck into the garage so they can load things in it without being seen. The rest they throw in Rachel's car. There's a lot to remember and Rachel checks and double checks her lists.

"You worry too much," Santana says.

"I'm very thorough," Rachel replies. "Besides, if we forget anything, I'm going to be very annoyed. I assume you will be as well."

"Well, yeah, that's true, I guess."

"Too much anticipation, I think," Brittany comments.

"Mostly likely," Rachel says.

"We should take a nap," Brittany suggests.

"You want to sleep? Now?" Puck asks.

"We won't be able to later," Brittany shrugs. "This is going to take a long time. I just figured a bit of sleep can't hurt."

"She's not wrong," Rachel agrees. "I know we're all a bit restless, but I think we should try."

"Well, I'll never say no to crawling into bed with three hot chicks," Puck says.

"Fine. Seems it's unanimous," Santana says, following Rachel up the stairs.

"It's a good idea, San," Brittany says, behind her.

"I doubt I'll be able to fall asleep," Santana replies.

"Then we'll all just rest our eyes," Rachel tells her.

"What are you? Ninety years old?" Santana questions.

"Keep talking like that and you can cuddle with Noah," Rachel teases.

**…**

When Rachel's alarm goes off a few hours later, everyone is surprised to find that they did in fact fall asleep.

They get up and Puck goes into the bathroom to change while the rest of them do so in Rachel's room.

Once they're dressed and ready, Rachel and Brittany head into the kitchen while Puck and Santana go over everything in the garage one more time.

"You're kinda like a boy scout," Brittany tells Rachel as she watches her throw bottles of water into a backpack.

"I just like to be prepared."

"I'm going to make you a T-shirt that says that," Brittany replies.

"You are?" Rachel asks. "I didn't know you knew how to do that."

Brittany shrugs. "I'd figure it out."

**…**

They park near the back of the school where it's almost pitch dark. There's a part of Rachel that's frightened right now because there could be anyone or anything hiding in the darkness they're deliberately walking into. But the sound of Puck unlatching the back of his truck, snaps her out of it and she goes to help him and Santana as Brittany picks the lock.

Most of the things they want to do need to be done to the outside of the school, but the only way they figured they wouldn't be seen is to do it from the roof. So once Brittany has the door open, she and Rachel go to find the door to the roof. Rachel's got a small backpack swung over her shoulder.

The biggest problem they have is how to get everything onto the roof. But having already gotten something ridiculous onto the top of the building, Rachel isn't concerned. She was able to get the catapult up there and it was just her.

She and Brittany quickly get to work setting up several pulleys. By the time they're done, Puck and Santana are ready to start sending things up. Load after load, is pulled up until everything that needs to be is atop the school.

That is only the first step. Puck and Santana join Rachel and Brittany and they begin setting everything up. The front of the school becomes a castle with it's very own working drawbridge. They put up fake looking torrents and a donjon. They set up the catapult as well as a cannon.

Rachel then sets up an odd looking object none of them have seen before.

"What's that, Rach?" Brittany asks.

"It's a launcher. We can really only set up the catapult and cannon two or three times. This can go for as long as it has ammo. And I brought plenty."

"What kind of ammo?" Puck asks.

"Rotten fruit and vegetables," Rachel replies. "Fairly harmless."

Looking over at the large trough of rotten food, Santana asks. "Do I even want to know where you got all that?"

"Most likely not."

Next they set up the remote controls, so they'll be able to set off the catapult or cannon when necessary without actually being on the roof.

Rachel figures any one of them being absent will be very suspicious. Both Puck and Santana tell her she's being paranoid, but neither have had a persistent Finn or pushy Figgins breathing down their necks like she has. It's better to be safe than sorry.

It's nearly dawn when they finally finish. They're exhausted as they slowly make their way back through the school and out the door.

Once they've dropped everything back at Rachel's and changed into less conspicuous clothes, they all drive to a diner that Rachel knows of.

"You found an actual diner that serves vegan?" Santana asks as she parks her car in the nearly parking lot.

"It's interesting what you can find, if you're willing to look for it."

**…**

Later when they arrive at school, they're greeted by a crowded parking lot and Puck has flashes of when Rachel locked every door in the building. Which they did again; well, the doors on the side of the building. It's impossible to get in through the main doors with the enormous castle drop cloth and drawbridge blocking it.

Tina spots them and waves them over.

"Are we getting a new mascot?" Brittany asks Tina.

"No idea."

"Once again, no one's talking," Artie says. "But seems pretty obvious the prankster struck again."

"Awesome," Puck mutters.

They didn't really get a chance to admire their handiwork. It'd still be rather dark out when they left. Seeing it now, it's rather impressive.

"We're fucking gods," Puck mumbles.

"Hell yeah, we are," Santana mutters back.

And then suddenly there's a loud explosion from the roof and a cannonball comes flying towards the crowd. Everyone begins panicking and running around, trying to get out of its way. Tina, Artie, Rachel, Puck, Santana and Brittany stay where they are and simply watch the descent.

It hits no one, instead smashing onto the pavement and crumbling apart on impact. There's an actually sigh of relief heard as everyone realizes it's hollow.

Everyone turns back to the roof, waiting to see if anything else will happen. There's not disappointed as the cannon explodes again. This time the cannonball explodes in mid air and releases a rather impressive, though small fireworks display.

"Holy crap," Artie says.

"Damn," Santana mutters.

"You think this is some crazy Renaissance club thing?" Kurt asks, as he and Mercedes join them.

"It's the prankster," Artie says. "Has to be. We don't have that kind of funding."

"That's for damn sure," Santana says.

Most people's eyes are still glued to the roof, waiting for more.

This time they hear creaking gears and don't know what to think. However, before anyone can figure out what the noise is, they hear a mooing sound they see a cow flying through the air.

Once again there is panic that the glee kids ignore. They watch the cow fly through the air and crash into the ground, breaking. The cow is, of course, fake.

"Did people really think that was a live cow?" Rachel asks.

"Our peers lack a certain… intelligence, Kurt says.

"Why is this place so ridiculous?" Mercedes questions.

"Least it's not boring," Puck says.

Everyone waits for more and they're not disappointed. This time, a huge red and white ball is launched. Some people run, most stay put, trusting this item to be harmless as well.

Rachel's glad they're near the back. For one, it's easier to see everything. But more importantly, they're out of the catapult's range.

Those who didn't move receive a rude awakening when the ball explodes about eight feet off the ground. Apparently the ball was hallow as well, but was instead filled with grape slushie. It splatters and drips everywhere, leaving dozens of people a wet, sticky mess.

"That's justice," Kurt says.

"It's like it's my birthday, you know," Mercedes adds. "It's such a beautiful gift."

"Good things can happen, it seems," Artie says.

"What about the fruit?" Santana whispers to Rachel.

"Might be out," Rachel whispers back. "I set it up with a motion sensor. When someone gets too close to the school, it goes off."

Santana turns and gapes at her.

Rachel shrugs. "It keeps people away."

"You think of everything," Santana says, sounding awed. "Will you marry me?"

Rachel chuckles. "Glad you approve."

**…**

They're all sent home after that. When half the school receives a slushie shower, Figgins has no choice. Besides, no one can figure out how to get into the damn building. All the side doors are once again locked from the inside. And if anyone approaches the building, they're met with a rotten tomato to the face. He knows because he'd received several. He desperately wishes he could go home and shower.

**…**

"Feel better?" Santana asks Rachel as they lounge at her house.

"It was somewhat cathartic, yes," Rachel replies. "But my enjoyment is slightly marred by the knowledge of what I'll have to deal with on Monday."

"What about all that stuff, Rach?" Brittany asks. "How's it going to get back to who it belongs to?"

"Everything's labeled," Rachel tells her. "So hopefully, they'll take the time to return everything to everyone."

"Nice," Puck says. "So we won't have to do it."

"But won't they rat you out?" Santana asks.

"They might," Rachel says. "Or at least they might try. Certainly Figgins will question everyone."

"So what?" Puck asks. "This is like some big ending prank?"

"No, of course not," Rachel replies. "I certainly don't want to be suspended. Besides, after all the absurdity of Figgins pulling me into his office, he'd probably expel me."

"So what? We have to go back and get everything?" Puck asks.

"You guys know me better than that," Rachel chastises. "You really think I'm going to let myself get caught _that_easily? By Figgins of all people? The only thing worse would be Mr. Schue figuring it out."

"Well?"

"No one knows it was _me_who obtained things," Rachel answers. "I didn't use my real name."

"But you still have to pick it all up," Santana points out.

"Not really. It's not something I could do by myself. So I had some guys I know go and pick it up for me. They picked it up in a white, non descript van. When questioned, they'll probably remember very little about the pick up guys."

"Who'd you get to pick it up?" Puck asks. "Delivery services are expensive."

"They are indeed," Rachel agrees. "But I know these brothers who are friends of the family. They did it for me. I owe them now, but it's worth it to cover my tracks."

"You _owe_them? What does that mean?" Santana asks.

"Exactly what it sounds like, San," Rachel replies.

"I don't like how that sounds."

"It won't be like that," Rachel says. "The Saunders brothers aren't like that."

"Oh. Them. Okay."

"Who the hell are they?" Puck asks.

"I shared a dance class with Billy, the youngest. He's only like three years older than me."

"Is there anyone you don't have wrapped around your little finger, Rach?" Brittany asks.

"Hey!" Puck and Santana exclaim.

Rachel just grins.


	19. Some Days, Love is Hell

**Title:** Some Days, Love is Hell  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Quinn makes a drunken confession and Brittany is awesomely insightful.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~7,700  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None.  
><strong>AN:** Requested by **darcelynn**. And with a portion requested by **kiarcheo**. The song is **Misery** by the **The Moffatts**. It's a bit more upbeat than I'd originally pictured, but the lyrics work really well.

Rachel's depressed.

"Why?" Brittany asks.

They're at Brittany's, studying. Santana has family obligations.

"Because I think I hit the ceiling," Rachel replies.

Brittany looks up.

"How do you top a cow being catapulted off a castle?" Rachel shakes her head. "You can't."

Brittany looks confused. "Why do you have to?"

Rachel stares at the blonde for a moment.

"I mean," Brittany continues. "No one's making you pull pranks. It's just something you like doing, right?"

Rachel nods.

"So who cares what anyone else thinks?" Brittany asks. "No one else could have pulled off what you have-"

"I did have help," Rachel points out.

"Still," Brittany says. "You're legendary. Even if you never pull one again. No one's going to forget or outdo you."

"That's true," Rachel allows.

"You worry too much, Rach," Brittany tells her. "Pranking is just something you do for fun and to blow off some steam. If you start stressing over it, it won't be fun. Just wait for an idea to hit you. It'll happen. Besides, keeping people in suspense is fun too, right?"

Rachel nods again. "Thanks Britt."

"You're welcome Rach."

**…**

Thursday afternoon Rachel walks into the choir room for glee to find Brittany already there.

"Hey Britt."

"Hi Rachel." The blonde bounces over to Rachel. "Here," Brittany says, handing Rachel a small wrapped box.

"What's this?"

"A present, silly," Brittany smiles. "I thought it might cheer you up."

"Thanks Britt."

Rachel sit and begins carefully tears the bright pink paper off. She sets it on the chair next to her and opens the box. Inside is a pink T-shirt that says, **I Like to be Prepared**. The dot over the i is a gold star.

"You like it?"

"It's great," Rachel says, setting down the box. She stands and pulls Brittany into a hug. "Thanks. It's just what I needed."

"I'm glad."

**…**

Glee is odd. Kurt and Mercedes are still giving Rachel a wide berth. And their odd treatment is weirding everyone else out, even Mr. Schue. The only problem is, that everyone tries to pretend otherwise, which just makes things even more awkward. It also doesn't help that most of them have no idea why Kurt and Mercedes are being so strange and the two aren't sharing.

**…**

The next afternoon, Santana is stuffing things in her locker when Quinn walks up to her.

"So what are you doing tonight, Lopez?" Quinn asks.

"Same thing I usually do Friday night, hanging with B," Santana replies. "Wanna join us?"

"Really?"

"Of course. What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just… we don't really hang out anymore," Quinn responds.

"Hey, that's just as much me as it is you, Fabray," Santana replies. "Remember when Rach and I first started up? _You_shunned me."

"I was surprised," Quinn says. "Shocked even."

"It just happened."

"Your place or hers?" Quinn asks changing the subject.

"Hers."

"All right. See you later."

**…**

"So what are you and Britt up to tonight?" Rachel asks as Santana drives her home.

"Dunno," Santana replies. "Q's going to join us though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Santana shrugs. "It's been a while… and I kinda miss having her around."

"I know."

"What?"

"She's your best friend, San," Rachel replies. "I know she had a tough time with you and me, but hopefully enough time has passed that she can look past it."

"We'll see," Santana says. "What are you Puckerman going to be up to?"

"Knowing Noah? Drinking most likely."

"We'll make a teenage alcoholic out of you yet."

"Goody."

**…**

Not having a specific plan, Santana, Brittany and Quinn end up watching movies and drinking.

"Is this how you guys have been spending your Fridays?" Quinn asks during the second movie.

"Sometimes," Brittany answers.

"Oh. Well at least I haven't been missing much," Quinn replies.

"We missed you too, Q," Santana says.

"We could play truth or date," Brittany suggests.

This suggestion is met with silence.

"Or not," Brittany says. "Drinking game?"

"Like what?"

Brittany grins. "Twister?"

"Try again."

"Monopoly?"

"You don't have Monopoly Britt," Santana says.

"Right. I forgot. Strip poker?"

"Now you sound like Puck," Quinn mutters.

"How about poker, but the losers have to drink?"

"That could work," Santana says.

Quinn shrugs. "Why not?"

**…**

Brittany, of course, is excellent at poker. They start out playing Texas Hold 'em, but after Brittany wins a dozen hands in a row, Quinn demands they play another type. They settle on seven card stud.

Quinn and Santana fare a bit better, but having drank so much previous, they continue to only win sporadically. So after twenty or so hands, Quinn considers herself drunk. Maybe she shouldn't have chosen hard liquor. Even though Santana swore the Screwdriver was as weak as possible, she's really feeling it.

"It _is_your third drink, Quinn," Brittany points out.

"Yeah, but you guys are fine."

"We drink like fish, Q," Santana replies. "Maybe we should try something else."

"No. No. I'm fine. Deal again. I'm getting better."

Having won the last three hands, it makes sense. But both Brittany and Santana had gotten shitty hands while Quinn had been dealt two pair, trip kings, and a flush.

Brittany deals and they play another dozen hands.

When Brittany wins with a straight flush, Santana decides to call it quits. She's definitely drunk. She can tell Britt is starting to feel it too.

"Another movie?" Brittany suggests.

"Nothing serious," Quinn says.

Brittany nods and puts a romantic comedy in.

**…**

When the credits roll on the second movie, Santana notices that Britt has fallen asleep. To her left, Quinn is scrunched up in a ball, looking tearful.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Quinn sniffs.

"Come on, Q, don't be like that."

"No."

"We're still best friends, right? You can tell me."

"I can't."

Santana slides off the bed and walks around to the left side where Quinn is curled up facing away from her. "You can Quinn. I promise it'll be okay."

"You'll hate me."

"I doubt it."

"You will."

"Quinn," Santana says softly. "I'm drunk and tired. And I want to help you, I do. But my patience is much lower in my current state. So please, just tell me. Okay?"

"I'm sorry I have you such a hard time before," Quinn mumbles. "But when you and Rachel started up, it was the worst day of my life."

"I know Rach isn't your favorite person, Q, but-"

"When you two started dating, I lost two things; my best friend and the girl of my dreams," Quinn sobs.

Santana's jaw drops.

"You hate me," Quinn cries. "I know. I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"I don't hate you, Quinn," Santana finally manages. "At least now it makes sense. And you've been dealing with that all alone."

Quinn nods.

"No wonder you've been such a colossal bitch lately."

"Hey."

"It's true, Q," Santana replies. "When you're in pain or afraid, you lash out."

"I know." Quinn wipes her eyes. "Do you hate me?"

"Course not, you idiot. You should have told me sooner, you know."

"What good would it have done?"

"I don't know," Santana says. "But I coulda been more sensitive, I guess."

"You? Sensitive? Ha!"

"Yeah, well, for you I'd make an exception."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Q," Santana says. "You love who you love."

"I guess."

"Why didn't you, uh, you know, try?"

"I can't be gay, San," Quinn whispers. "It's not allowed."

"Your dad's gone, Quinn," Santana replies.

"I know. I was working up the courage, but by the time school started…"

"It was already too late," Santana finishes.

Quinn begins sobbing again.

"Ah Christ," Santana groans. She sits on the bed and pulls Quinn in for a hug. "It'll be okay, Quinn."

"It won't," Quinn wails. "Seeing you two-together-every day at school-oh god, it's sometimes too much."

"Quinn…"

"And I always thought it'd be such an uphill battle," Quinn continues. "I mean, I was such a bitch to her. I knew I'd have to make up for so much. And then I see you and her. And how the hell were you forgiven so easily? It's not fair."

"It's complicated," Santana says. "I'm sorry."

"I just -why did it have to happen this way?"

"I don't know, Quinn. I don't know."

**…**

Quinn cries herself to sleep curled around Santana. The blonde is still crying slightly in her sleep, which Santana didn't even know was possible.

She doesn't know what to think. She's suddenly incredibly sober. Despite joking about it, Santana didn't _really_think Quinn was in love with Rachel. She assumed Quinn was mad at Rachel for taking her best friend. But this? This was almost too much.

Nor is Santana sure how she'll react to Quinn in the daylight. She's never seen the blonde so vulnerable despite their years of friendship. It just wasn't a line they'd crossed. But now, now she felt closer to her than she ever had and yet, the knowledge about Quinn's feelings hangs over her.

Santana groans to herself; it's going to be so awkward in the morning. She can't decide what's better, pretending the conversation never happened or just accepting it and moving on.

Could she do either of those things? She could probably ignore the situation if she really wanted. And she would if that's what Quinn wants, which Santana figures is the most likely. That is usually the path she chooses.

There's a voice in her head, that sounds annoyingly like Rachel, telling her that this issue needs to be confronted sober, and dealt with so they can just move past it.

There's also a small chance that Quinn was drunk enough that she might not remember her confession. That's what Santana's hoping for. If Quinn doesn't remember, Santana can pretend she doesn't know.

**…**

Quinn wakes up feeling rotten, but warm. Her eyes and throat feel like sandpaper, but she's wrapped up in someone's protective arms. Slowly she opens her eyes. She recognizes Brittany's room and she remembers the previous night's activities. Including her drunken, sobbing confession to her best friend.

Quinn groans to herself. She'd had no intention of ever telling Santana about her crush. Stupid romantic comedies and alcohol. God, how the hell is she supposed to face Santana now?

Turning slightly, she finds herself cuddling with Santana. She has vague memories of falling asleep that way. Well, more specifically, Santana reassuring her and then just sinking into the comfort.

Quinn wiggles out of her grasp and goes to the bathroom. Washing her hands, she stares at herself in the mirror. The face staring back is the same one it always is, so why does she feel so different?

Returning to the room, Quinn is surprised to find Brittany sitting up.

"Morning," Quinn says.

"Morning," Brittany whispers back. She then climbs out of bed and pulls Quinn into a hug.

"What was that for?"

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

Brittany shakes her head and drags Quinn out of the room. She leads her downstairs to the kitchen. She pushes Quinn into a chair. She then goes to the fridge and pours two large glasses of water. Returning to the table, she sets a glass in front of Quinn and drinks out of the other one.

"So are you going to pretend it didn't happen?" Brittany asks.

"I was planning on it, yes," Quinn replies, knowing feigning innocence won't work with Brittany.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Brittany tells her. "Bottling stuff up is what made you isolate yourself. And that sucked. I mean, I missed you."

Quinn stares at Brittany. She's still not completely used to this version of Brittany that Rachel seems to have brought out.

"And you were really lonely," Brittany continues. "I could tell."

"What else am I supposed to do, Britt? I don't want to talk about it? It's embarrassing."

"Why?"

" _Because_. I've spent all this time torturing Rachel because I have feelings for her? It's pathetic," Quinn explains.

"It's human, Quinn," Brittany replies. "Besides, considering your, uh, upbringing, it's understandable. Your dad is scary."

Well that was certainly true.

"I don't want things to be weird," Quinn says.

"Who says they have to be?"

"How can they not be?" Quinn asks. "You know how possessive S is. My lusting after her girlfriend isn't the best way to reingratiate myself."

"Maybe not, but it's not like you're intentionally trying to hurt her," Brittany says. "You can't help the way you feel."

"I should be able to," Quinn grouses. "I've been trying for years."

"How's that working for you?"

"Not so well," Quinn admits.

"Just talk to her. She might surprise you."

**…**

Santana wakes up alone in Brittany's bed. She briefly wonders if Quinn ran home, afraid to face her. She hopes not. That wouldn't be the Quinn Fabray she knows and loves. Sitting up with a yawn, she stretches. The lack of Brittany's presence suggests that Quinn was mostly likely dragged downstairs.

She's glad to wake up alone. It gives her a moment to collect herself and decide how she's going to react to seeing Quinn after her revelation. She'd spent forever the night before debating what to do, finally coming to the decision that it was best to go with whatever Quinn wanted.

With trepidation, Santana heads downstairs.

**…**

She finds Quinn at the kitchen table sipping water from a glass and Brittany digging in a cupboard.

"Morning."

Quinn's head whips up and Santana watches the emotions play across her face. She finally gives a hesitant smile.

Brittany waves absently as she continues to search the cupboard.

"We should, uh, talk," Quinn says quietly.

"All right."

"We'll be back in a minute, Britt," Quinn announces.

"Take your time, guys," Brittany replies. "I'm still looking for my cereal."

Quinn follows Santana into the living room. They each sit on the far end of the couch, staring straight ahead.

"Britt talk to you?" Santana asks after an extended silence.

"Yeah. She, uh, had some good advice."

Santana smirks. "She usually does."

"Listen," Quinn starts. "I'm sorry for breaking down like that, last night. I was really drunk, you know?"

"I do. But I'm not sorry."

"Huh?"

"You're like my best friend, Quinn," Santana replies. "Even after this… hiatus we've been on. If you can't talk to me about stuff like that, then who?"

"True."

"I know it's tough with you," Santana continues. "Your religion and all that."

"That's true as well."

"I kinda wish you'd told me sooner. I mean, that had to really suck to worry about. Especially after Rach and I, well, you know."

"You're not mad?"

"Course not. Like I said last night, you can't help how you feel. I'm pretty sure if you could, you wouldn't pick Rachel. Because it'd be easier."

"Yeah," Quinn sniffs.

"Jesus, don't cry. I can't handle it twice in twelve hours."

"I'm sorry. I just thought you'd hate me. And that things would be weird."

"Uh, well they might be a little," Santana replies. "But I'll try to not be weird if you promise to do the same."

"When'd you get so reasonable?"

"Rachel," Santana sighs.

"Oh," Quinn whispers.

"Sorry."

"No," Quinn sighs. "I have to get used to it-I will get used to it."

"I'll try to be more sensitive or whatever," Santana offers.

"Thanks S."

"I suppose you want to hug now," Santana mutters.

"You don't have to."

Santana stands and grabs Quinn's hand, yanking her up. The annoyed snark is stopped by Santana wrapping her arms around Quinn.

**…**

"You heading over to Rachel's?" Brittany asks.

Quinn left first, saying her mother was expecting her. Though Santana suspects she just needs time to herself. She doesn't blame her. It's such an unexpected revelation.

Santana nods, getting dressed.

"You gonna tell her about Q?"

"I don't know. You think I should?"

"Depends," Brittany replies. "Do you think she should know?"

"What good would telling her do?"

"Maybe she'd cut Quinn a break. Rachel's been feistier lately. Your influence." Brittany shrugs. "Maybe if she knew, she'd be more easy going about Quinn's bitchiness."

"I guess."

Brittany studies Santana for a moment. "You don't want to tell her. Why?"

"It'll be weird."

"Probably. But that's not why," Brittany insists.

"I hate when you do that."

"San…"

"What if it matters?" Santana asks. "What if she likes Quinn back?"

"What?"

"I mean, they do enjoy their arguments. I always thought they'd either kill each other or kiss."

"She might have at one point," Brittany replies. "But then you happened. She _loves_you."

"Yeah."

"But you're still worried."

"I lose to Quinn Fabray a lot, Britt," Santana says, sadly.

"Rachel loves you. Period. Knowing Quinn has feelings for her isn't going to change that."

"It might," Santana insists.

"What about the tattoos? You think Rach would do that if she wasn't serious?"

"No. Probably not."

"Well now you definitely have to tell her," Brittany says.

"Why?"

"So you can lay this ridiculous fear to rest."

"I'm fine."

"No way, San," Brittany replies. "I know you. You'll let it fester until it becomes an issue and when Rachel asks you, you'll just push her away. And then you'll blame the Quinn thing if it falls apart. But it will really be you and your fears."

"Come on."

"You're dating one of the biggest talkers at McKinley, San," Brittany says. "You need to tell her. For your sake."

"She'll think I'm being stupid and insecure."

"You are, well insecure, anyway. And maybe stupid for doubting Rachel's feelings. As if she's that fickle."

"I don't know."

"Just think about it, all right?"

**…**

She spends the drive over thinking about it. The only problem is that because it's Lima, that's barely five minutes. So she sits in the driveway going over what Brittany said. She curses the blonde for knowing her so well; but feels a rush of affection for her because Santana knows she sometimes needs someone to kick her in the ass.

Finally, deciding Britt's right, Santana climbs out of her car. She'll tell Rachel. She has to because otherwise the paranoia will build.

Now she just has to figure out the best time to bring it up.

**…**

The best time is apparently late that night as they lay their intertwined, heartbeats slowing.

"Quinn's got a crush on you," Santana blurts out. "Damnit. I didn't mean to say it like that."

"I'm sorry," Rachel says. "Could you repeat that? Because it sounded like you said Quinn has a crush on me?"

"Uh, yeah. I did say that."

"Well. Fuck."

Santana actually sits up to stare at Rachel. She can count on one hand the number of times she's heard Rachel swear.

"That explains a lot," Rachel says after a long moment. " _That_is what you guys talked about last night?"

"We were smashed."

"Ah yes, alcohol, the truth serum of youth. What'd you say?"

"What could I say? I told her I wasn't mad and we'd both try to keep things not weird. And then we hugged. It was all very_Full House_."

"Which one of you was Michelle?"

"That'd be you, midget."

"The older sister was short too," Rachel argues.

"So?"

Rachel sighs. "I can't believe you were right."

"Hey, I was joking."

"Nice punch line then," Rachel comments.

"Yeah."

"You're being weird."

"I am not."

"You're being weird. Why?"

"And you're not weirded out?" Santana asks.

"I can't make you feel better if you don't tell me what's wrong."

God, is there anyone in Santana's life who doesn't call her on shit? She's starting to miss the days of being thought of as emotionally blocked.

"It's stupid."

"Obviously not if it's bothering you."

"It's embarrassing."

"Oh. Well, how about I tell you something embarrassing as well?" Rachel suggests.

"What if it's not as embarrassing as mine?"

"We're going to compete over embarrassment? Really?"

"You go first."

Rachel sighs. "You're such a child."

Santana actually pouts.

"Fine. Even though I know you love me and we have these very permanent tattoos on us, I still worry that you're going to break up and go off with Brittany."

Santana gapes at Rachel, who ducks under the scrutiny. She then bursts out laughing.

"That isn't making me feel better."

"We really might be perfect for each other," Santana finally manages. "I was afraid that you might decide Quinn's a better choice than me."

"I'm not sure where that comes from. I mean, at least you and Britt have history."

"You really have no idea what it's like to watch you two fight, do you?"

Rachel shakes her head in confusion.

"It's, uh, well, it's almost electric."

"Intriguing."

"Well that doesn't make _me_feel better."

"I suppose I do get a certain thrill out of it," Rachel muses. "After all, I do enjoying arguing. Though that might be a defense mechanism since it happened so frequently. However, that is a rather large leap to go from fighting to dating."

"Actually, it's the shortest one ever," Santana counter. "A thin line between love and hate."

"Quoting movie title isn't helping. I have no desire to date Quinn," Rachel says. "Perhaps ten or fifteen years down the line, she can be my second wife."

This gets her a pillow to the face.

**…**

The next morning after some excellent morning sex, Santana watches Rachel pull on a T-shirt and shorts. Rachel, of course, gets the Sunday New York Times and likes to read it in bed, so every weekend they lounge in bed and thoroughly dissect it.

"What are you wearing?"

"You like it? Brittany made it for me."

"It's… exactly what I'd expect Brittany to give you."

"Well _I_like it."

"I suppose that's all that matters then," Santana says watching Rachel's ass as she exits her room.

**…**

After Santana leaves, Rachel ponders what she's learned this weekend. She's quite surprised that her normally laconic girlfriend actually mentioned it. With her apparent fear of abandonment, keeping it quiet would be in her best interest.

Even though Rachel knows Santana loves her, likes her even; she's never thought of this as anything more than a high school relationship. Maybe she's been underestimating Santana. And herself. Perhaps they can be something more.

The fact that Quinn claims to love her is strangely unsettling to Rachel. She knows the cliché about picking on the girl you like, but Quinn took it to such an extreme that it's hard to look past it.

She also realizes how hypocritical it sounds given her relationship with Santana.

It was just one of those things. Santana was bored and lonely; while Rachel had been hurt and lonely. In fact, Rachel had been aiming for a fun, causal relationship that when she realized there were feelings involved, she'd been annoyed. She wonders if she's one of those people who just can't have casual sex.

To be honest, Quinn might have stood a chance with Rachel pre Santana. Though she'd never tell either of them that. With her upbringing, Rachel isn't bound to strict rules of attraction. Both sexes appeal to her and her fathers taught her to fall in love with a person, not a gender.

Having no idea how Quinn's going to be behaving from now on, Rachel decide to play it by ear. She loathes the idea, but sees no alternative.

**…**

Monday morning when Quinn walks into second period, she finds Rachel already seated.

"Good morning Quinn," Rachel greets. "I trust you had a relaxing, yet fulfilling weekend."

"She told you, didn't she? I knew Lopez couldn't keep a secret."

"Did you ask her to keep it a secret?"

"Well, no," Quinn admits. "Though that should have been obvious."

"Santana simply had some concerns with the issue that she wanted to address with me," Rachel explains. "Otherwise, I'm sure she wouldn't have mentioned it."

"Maybe."

"Besides, it's not like she's told everyone. Just me."

"Yeah, I guess."

Their conversation is cut off by the ringing of the bell.

**…**

"Hi Rachel."

Rachel's in the choir room eating lunch when Brittany enters.

"You're not at lunch," Brittany pouts. "I miss you."

"Ah, thanks, Britt. I just needed to do some thinking."

"About Quinn?"

"Santana really can't keep a secret, can she?" Rachel muses.

"I overheard them talking about it," Brittany explains. "I was asleep, but woke up in the middle of the confession. I thought it'd be better if I just kept quiet. Less awkward."

"That makes sense."

"And it's a good thing I did," Brittany continues. "Because those two are so bad about feelings. If I hadn't been there to talk to them, who knows what would have happened?"

"I'm glad you were there to help them, Britt."

"And now I can help you," Brittany says. "Are you freaked out?"

"No. Not really. I believe Quinn is more freaked out about the fact that I know."

"That's understandable."

Rachel nods. "I'm simply trying to figure out how to get past that. Otherwise it's going to be very awkward. And I fear that the tentative friendship that is being reformed between the three of you will cease. And I'd rather not be the cause of that."

"Do you have a plan?"

Rachel grins. "I'm Rachel Berry. Of course I have a plan."

"Oh. So you really don't need me, do you?"

"Don't be silly," Rachel says. "It's nice having you around."

"Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."

**…**

Last period, Quinn is summoned to the choir room by Mr. Schue. She can't imagine what he wants to talk to her about, but she doesn't mind getting out of class.

The brightly lit room appears empty when she first enters. She calls out for Mr. Schue but is stopped short by the sound of the door locking. She spins around to find herself face to face with Rachel Berry.

"Hello Quinn," Berry says. "I was hoping we could talk."

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes have study hall last period, but rarely stay there. Using any excuse available, the two will escape and wonder the halls. It's like their gossip catch up time.

Turning a corner, they see Quinn go into the choir room and decide to stop by and say hello.

However when the reach the door they find it locked. Glancing inside through the small window in the door, they see Quinn and Rachel facing off.

**…**

"I suppose you're pissed at me then," Quinn begins.

"Not at all, Quinn," Rachel replies. "One can't help who they're attracted to. They just are."

"Santana said the same thing."

"You doubt that?"

Quinn shrugs. "I was always told that you find the proper person for you and then let the love grow from there. My parents expected me to find the perfect husband and hopefully I'd learn to love him."

Rachel is nodding. "I can see how that might make your current feelings difficult."

"I didn't want S to tell you because I didn't want things to be weird."

"Well, they're going to be. For a while. It's just the nature of things," Rachel tells her. "But it's better this way, trust me."

"For you maybe. You get a good ego stroking."

"Keeping things inside isn't healthy Quinn," Rachel replies. "Don't you feel better now that things are out?"

"I suppose."

"And I understand if you'd rather not be around me too much," Rachel continues. "I can make myself scarce until you're feeling more comfortable."

"No," Quinn shakes her head. "I think it's better to just get used to it. The sooner the better because I'm getting tired of feeling like this."

"Well, I know Santana and I will do our best to be sensitive to your situation."

"Thanks," Quinn says.

They're standing rather close and the proximately is killing Quinn, so she does the only thing she can think of. She leans in and kisses Rachel.

Quinn's expecting to be slapped. She isn't expecting Rachel to kiss her back.

**…**

Both Kurt and Mercedes jaws drop at the sight of Quinn Fabray kissing Rachel Berry. They quickly slip down the hall before they're noticed.

**…**

"Feel better?" Rachel asks when they break apart.

"I don't know," Quinn replies. "Why didn't you stop me?"

Rachel sighs. "It's something you had to do Quinn. I could see it in your eyes."

"Oh. So you don't…"

"I love Santana."

"I know. I just thought, maybe we'd, and it'd be so amazing… But it's stupid."

"It's not stupid, Quinn," Rachel assures her. "I probably shouldn't have kissed back, but I was hoping if you got it out of your system it would help you move on."

"Oh."

"Did it?"

"I don't know," Quinn says quietly. "Hopefully. But you're right. It's something I've been thinking about forever." A thought occurs to her. "What about S?"

"I'll handle it. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry?" Quinn exclaims. "I tell her I want to get back to being friends and what's the first thing I do? Kiss her girlfriend!"

"Quinn, please calm down before you draw unwanted attention to us. You're getting rather loud."

"Sorry."

"I will talk to Santana and it will be fine. I swear."

"Yeah?"

"I promise."

"All right," Quinn says. "I'll let you handle this."

"You won't regret it Quinn."

**…**

Sitting in her last period class, Santana is both bored and worried. She shares Spanish with Rachel and yet her girlfriend isn't there. Schuester seems unconcerned with the absence, but that's hardly reassuring seeing how he treats Rachel.

The vibration of her phone draws her out of her thoughts.

_We need to speak ASAP. R_

That certainly isn't comforting either.

Though knowing Rachel, it could just be she's excited about something and can't wait to tell her. Santana once rushed over to Rachel's house early one Saturday morning thinking it was an emergency only to find out that Rachel just wanted to share a new vegan recipe she found.

Once the bell rings, Santana's out of her seat and out the door. Only to be hustled into the girls' bathroom by Kurt and Mercedes. They check the stalls and then lock the door.

Santana wonders where Tina came from as well. She knows she shares Spanish with her, but Santana has no memory of Tina during the brief journey to the bathroom.

"What the fuck?" Santana exclaims.

"Don't be like that," Kurt says.

"We need to talk to you, girl," Mercedes adds.

"Obviously," Tina chuckles.

"Well?"

"I know this is none of my business," Mercedes begins. "But, uh, you and Rachel are dating right?"

Santana is instantly annoyed. "Yeah. We have been for months."

"And that's like exclusive dating, right?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah. So what?"

"Well the thing is," Kurt says. "We were just walking by the choir room."

"Minding our own business," Mercedes adds.

"And we just happen to glance inside."

"We, uh, well, we saw Rachel, uh, kissing, um, someone," Mercedes finishes.

"They were probably just rehearsing something," Santana tells them.

"Maybe," Kurt agrees. "But I can't think of one thing they'd be rehearsing that involves Rachel kissing Quinn."

"Repeat that," Santana snaps.

"We saw Rachel kissing Quinn," Mercedes says.

Santana's eyes dart back and forth between an eagerly nodding Kurt and a saddened, but stalwart Mercedes. She then pushes between them, unlocks the door and stalks out.

"Well that can't be good," Kurt mutters.

"Should we follow her?" Tina asks.

"I don't know," Mercedes answers. "What if she's off to kill Quinn?"

"We're not missing that," Kurt says, taking off after Santana.

**…**

Feeling completely numb, Santana climbs into her car and drives. Her first instinct is to escape. She starts heading towards Brittany's, but remembers no one's home because she's supposed to be at Cheerios. Coach is going to be pissed, but she doesn't even care.

She drives around for a while, but because it's Lima, she ends up at her house all too quickly. No one's home yet, so she simply heads up to her room and crawls into bed.

**…**

Rachel is searching for Santana. She didn't expect it to take so long. She figured Santana would seek her out because of the text. Apparently not.

Checking her watch, Rachel decides the girls' locker room might be the best place to find Santana. There's Cheerios practice this afternoon and so it's most likely that Santana is there.

She ignores the stares she gets when she sneaks in. All the Cheerios know to leave her alone now and so most simply glower at her with disapproval, per usual. There are one or two giving her appreciative looks, but for the most part she is left alone.

Santana is nowhere in sight. She asks Brittany, who says she hasn't seen her. This worries Rachel because skipping Cheerios practice is something one does only under the most dire of emergencies. Sue Sylvester only recognize death and loss of limb as an acceptable reasons to miss practice.

**…**

Santana's car is parked in front of her house, but no one's answering the door. Because it's afternoon, Rachel knows no one's usually at home and so if Santana doesn't want to open the door, she won't.

Rachel wishes she knew what was wrong, but she's getting a sinking feeling that Santana knows about the kiss. This reaction is why Rachel wanted to tell Santana immediately; she didn't want there to be any misunderstandings.

Plopping down the front step, Rachel tries to decide what to do next.

**…**

Some jackass has been ringing the doorbell for almost ten minutes straight. Thinking about it, Santana's pretty sure that jackass is her girlfriend.

Glancing over at her alarm clock, Santana groans. Pretty soon she won't be the only one home and she can't have this lesbian drama play out in front of her family. She'll never hear the end of it. Besides, her parents don't really know about her and Rachel.

They know about Rachel. Her mom's even met her a few times. However, Santana has no idea how her parents would react to the idea. But, honestly, she's really not in the mood to find out.

Standing, she takes a deep breath and digs up her complete bitch mode before stomping down the stairs. She pulls the door open and yanks Rachel back inside before the girl has time to react. Then, ignoring her rambling, Santana drags Rachel up the stairs to her room.

Santana sits on her bed and crosses her arms, waiting for Rachel's explanation.

"I see you heard about the kiss," Rachel says quietly.

Santana nods.

"First off, she kissed me," Rachel begins. "But no, I did not pull away immediately.

Santana lets out a gasp.

"She needed it," Rachel insists. "I can tell. I realize it probably wasn't the best idea, but she looked so…"

"So what? It was a pity kiss?"

Rachel shrugs. "Perhaps. I didn't really have the time to think it through. I just reacted. I don't really know if it was a wise move or not, but it happened. And Quinn was more concerned about your feelings than her own. That has to mean something. Right?"

Santana just glares.

"Yes, well. I never intended to hide it," Rachel continues. "I was planning on telling you after school, but you disappeared. It meant nothing. I realize after your confession the other day, I'm a complete and utter bitch, but I swear I never intended to hurt you."

Santana's expression hasn't changed.

"Right. Okay then. You're still pissed. Rightly so. I'm just going to go and give you time," Rachel says. "However, if you're thinking of doing anything rash like ending this relationship, I have to inform you that isn't an option."

An eyebrow raise is the response.

"I mean it, San," Rachel tells her. "I love you. And I did something stupid, but it wasn't my intention to hurt you. That has to mean something."

Silence.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

**…**

When Brittany checks her phone after practice, she finds two text messages. One's from Rachel.

_You should probably go check on Santana._

And another from Santana.

_Stp by?_

Fearful something horrible happened, she heads over to Santana's.

**…**

Brittany finds Santana curled up in bed. Without hesitation, she crawls into bed with her and wraps her up in her arms.

"Wanna talk about it?" Brittany whispers.

"Quinn kissed Rachel and Rachel kissed her back."

"What?"

"Rachel said it was something Quinn had to do, so she let it happen. She apologized a lot too."

"Oh."

"I don't know what to do, Britt," Santana says. "I understand what Rachel means-"

"Really?"

"But it still hurts."

"Of course it does," Brittany tells her. "That's allowed."

"I'm torn," Santana continues. "Rachel's my girlfriend. No one gets to kiss her, but me. But at the same time, she was trying to help my best friend get over her crush and move on."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

**…**

The next morning, Quinn and Rachel run into each other in the parking lot.

"I explained the situation," Rachel says. "She didn't seem to care."

"Oh god."

"I'd stay out of her way if I was you," Rachel continues. "But she didn't break up with me, so I think we just need to give her time."

"Why the hell did you let me kiss you?" Quinn asks, smacking Rachel's arm.

"I could ask why you had the sudden urge to kiss me?" Rachel counters.

"You were very kissable looking," Quinn mumbles.

"Thanks, I suppose."

Stopping in front of Rachel's locker, both girls are surprised to find Kurt and Mercedes waiting, staring at them both in shocked irritation.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Mercedes exclaims.

"Excuse me?"

"How can you two be so causal about this?" Kurt asks.

"What are you two talking about?" Quinn snaps.

"You break Santana's heart and then just causally stroll in here together like nothing's the matter?" Mercedes explains. "You're the most heartless example of a girlfriend and best friend I've ever seen."

"I take it you were the one that told Santana about the kiss," Rachel comments wryly.

" _See_! That's what I'm talking about."

"Being that you have no idea what transpired," Rachel says. "I don't believe you get to comment on it."

"On the contrary-"

"It's none of your damn business," Quinn replies.

"I'd expect this from you, Quinn," Kurt says. "But Rachel, really?"

"Kurt," Rachel says quietly. "Please step away and mind your own business. I fear you're heading into unknown territory you're not prepared for."

"Are you threatening us?"

"Interpret it anyway you wish," Rachel replies. "However, I'd recommend you do as I request."

"Fine," Kurt says.

"For now," Mercedes adds before the two link arms and glide down the hall.

Watching them go, Quinn groans. "This is a ridiculous mess."

"It'll be fine, Quinn," Rachel says.

"I'm glad you're so calm about this."

"Being any other way wouldn't help the situation, so I see no reason to panic."

**…**

Santana _and_Brittany are conspicuously missing in glee that afternoon. Rachel fights the guilt spreading over her. Glancing over at Quinn, Rachel can see the blonde is having just as much success as she is; none.

Still there's nothing they can do, in Rachel's mind. She explained the situation and she can only let Santana take time to mull things over.

Rachel hates how ridiculously pragmatic she's being about this whole thing. It feels odd like she should be calling and texting constantly, trying to get Santana to forgive her. But she's not sure if that's the route. She already left a heartfelt message and sent several texts. Quinn also sent her apology, so waiting really seems to be the only route.

Kurt and Mercedes are throwing them both dirty looks while Tina and Artie are shooting them questioning glances.

The combination of that, both Rachel and Quinn being distracted and two members missing, makes it a rather unproductive practice. Mr. Schue dismisses them early telling them they'll be working extra hard on Thursday.

**…**

"I can't stand much more of this," Quinn says, walking out with Rachel.

Both are aware of how their seemingly sudden friendship looks, but Rachel brushes it off. It's mostly just Kurt and Mercedes they have to be concerned about. For two people that were fearful of her a mere week ago, Kurt and Mercedes are back to being rather bitchy and judgmental. It's a bit unsettling.

"I agree," Rachel replies. "Drastic measures may need to be taken."

"All right. I assume you have an idea."

"Of course I do."

"Need help?"

"No. It's simple enough," Rachel replies. "Thanks though."

They arrive at their cars.

"I never asked you, how you're doing, Quinn," Rachel says. "I hope the other day was enlightening."

Quinn sighs. "I know what you were trying to do, Berry and I appreciate it. It just takes time, right?"

"That's what they say."

"Once things get back to normal, it'll be fine."

"Really?"

Quinn shrugs. "It will be eventually."

**…**

That night Rachel stand outside Santana's window with a boombox. She knows the reference is before her time, but it's the simplest, yet most romantic thing she can think of.

**…**

Still laying in bed thinking, Santana suddenly hears music. Thinking it's a car passing by with its windows open, she rolls over and ignores it. However, when it doesn't stop, she sits up slowly and listens.

_I cry myself to sleep again tonight__  
><em>_'Cause I cannot hold you tight__  
><em>_I wish I could see you again tomorrow__  
><em>_To take all this sorrow, sorrow__  
><em>_I'm hollow__  
><em>_When I touch you__  
><em>_Can you feel it__  
><em>_When I need you__  
><em>_Can you give it__  
><em>_When I look in your eyes__  
><em>_Can you see me__  
><em>_When I fall, fall__  
><em>_Will you catch me, catch me, catch me…_

Looking out her window, Santana sees Rachel standing outside holding a large rectangular boombox above her head. Oddly, her first thought is to wonder where her girlfriend even found a boombox that big.

_… These tears on my face__  
><em>_Are for you__  
><em>_I wish that I could hold you__  
><em>_Touch you, feel you__  
><em>_My heart is bleeding Can't you see__  
><em>_I wish that you could hold me__  
><em>_Touch me, feel me__  
><em>_Misery is what I feel__  
><em>_When you're not around__  
><em>_So I can't heal__  
><em>_Misery is what I feel__  
><em>_Is what I feel…_

"What the hell are you doing?" Santana calls down.

"Apologizing via an iconic romantic gestures," Rachel replies. "Is it working?"

"Get up here before my mom starts to get suspicious."

Grinning wildly, Rachel turns off the music and moves closer to the house. Santana watches her produce a ladder and lean it against the house.

"_Now_what are you doing?"

"Another romantic gesture," Rachel replies. "Really Santana, if you cannot recognize these cliché moments, I'll have to rethink this relationship."

"I'm not quote Shakespeare to you," Santana tells her. "And you're totally Juliet, not me."

"Whatever," Rachel says. "As if you would ever do such a thing." She's almost at Santana's window. "Just be glad I didn't go with plan B."

"I don't even want to know," Santana replies, helping Rachel climb in her window. "But when you leave, you're going out the front door."

"Fine," Rachel sighs. "Hi."

"Hi. At least you didn't try to climb with the boombox."

"I'm crazy, not stupid."

"What the hell Rach? Are you trying to get me in trouble? All I need is my mom asking me about the insane girl outside the house."

"They don't know about me," Rachel says. "How do you think that makes me feel?"

"Your dads don't know about me," Santana replies.

"I told my fathers about you," Rachel insists.

"You mean how you told them you were dating someone and when they asked if it was Finnocence or Puckernone, you said no and they said okay and that was it? Yeah, I feel special."

"Okay, obviously it wasn't a full report," Rachel replies. "But at least they know I'm dating someone."

"My mother knows we're dating," Santana says. "She just doesn't know it's _you_."

"You're still mad at me," Rachel says.

"Not mad," Santana allows. "Hurt, I guess."

"I was trying to help Quinn," Rachel replies. "And then hopefully you'll get your friend back. I know you've missed her."

"Yeah," Santana nods. "I know. And while I appreciate the gesture, the method really bothers me. Especially the fact that you kissed her back."

Rachel nods. "But if it helps, you're still the only one I want to kiss."

"It helps a little."

"Everyone's mad at me on your behalf," Rachel tells her.

"Yeah?"

"Well Kurt and Mercedes," Rachel says. "Tina and Artie are only kind of mad."

"I kinda wish Hudson knew," Santana replies. "Then I can tell him he turned all his girlfriends gay. The look on his face would totally be worth the time I wasted on him."

Rachel chuckles. "You're mean."

"You're laughing, though."

"Is it pathetic that I missed you?"

"Hell yeah," Santana replies. "But lucky for you, I missed you too."

"We're both pathetic."

"Totally."

**…**

The next morning, Kurt and Mercedes watch Santana and Quinn walk in together, chatting. Rachel is nowhere in sight, but that's not unusual.

"You think they made up?" Kurt asks Mercedes.

"I'd assume so."

"I'm really starting to believe Rachel has some sort of secret power," Kurt says. "Like she could be a superhero, but instead she uses her power for selfish purposes."

"So her superpower is the ability to pacify people? That doesn't seem particularly useful."

"Maybe it's the ability to make your enemies feel drawn to you," Kurt suggests.

" _That_actually makes sense," Mercedes replies. "Though it still doesn't sound like a useful superpower. It's actually more a skill the villain would have."

"I would have thought _Santana_would be the evil genius."

"Which is probably part of her power," Mercedes says. "Making us think that."

"Huh," Kurt replies. "What kind of costume would that entail?"

"Great, now you're going to spend the rest of the day imagining it, aren't you?" Mercedes asks as they start towards first period.

"Maybe. Anything would be fine," Kurt continues. "As long as it doesn't involve animals."

"So true."


	20. Assume Crash Positions

**Title:** Assume Crash Positions  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Quinn, Finn, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Mike, Sue, Will, Figgins, OCs  
><strong>Rating:<strong> light R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Santana needs a distraction, so she decides to follow Brittany's lead and mess with Kurt and Mercedes.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~16,350  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Season 1. Also references to previous stories in the series.  
><strong>AN:** Brittany's first scene with Mercedes and Kurt is from aPearls Before Swine comic.  
><strong><br>**

"…One is filled with sugar, one is filled with arrows. One is filled with sugar, one is filled with arrows. One is filled with sugar, one is filled with arrows."

"Hey Britt," Mercedes says, sitting next to her.

"Hi Mercedes, hi Kurt," Brittany replies looking up as they pull out their lunches.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asks.

"Trying to memorize the difference between custard and Custer."

Both Mercedes and Kurt stare at Brittany for almost a minute.

"Uh, okay," Mercedes says finally.

Brittany returns to mumbling to herself while the other two begin eating.

After a few minutes Kurt looks around. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, well Rachel's helping out the theater kids with something and she made Santana come with her," Brittany explains.

"Helping how?" Kurt asks.

Brittany shrugs. "Don't know. That freshman Marisa, who has a crush on Rachel, asked for help with their latest production."

"And _Santana's_ helping?" Mercedes questions.

Brittany nods.

"Why?"

"Rachel's making her."

"Making her?" Kurt asks.

Brittany nods again.

"Um, all right."

"Can we ask you something, Britt?" Kurt asks after a few moments.

"Course."

"What's up with Quinn and Rachel kissing last week?"

"Whadda mean?"

"Kurt wants to know why," Mercedes explains.

"Oh. Because."

"Because why?"

Brittany shrugs again. "Rachel does stuff. I don't always understand it."

"That's certainly true for all of us," Kurt mutters. "So what happened exactly?"

"It was just a big misunderstanding. Once Rachel explained, it was fine," Brittany replies.

"Um, okay," Mercedes sighs.

"What exactly was the misunderstanding?" Kurt asks.

"Why?"

"I, uh, just want to make sure I won't have a pissed off Santana after me."

"You should worry more about Rachel," Brittany says.

"What? Why?"

"Santana is reluctant to do anything because she doesn't want to induce traumatic flashbacks of last year for you guys," Brittany explains.

"Oh well, that's nice of her," Mercedes comments.

"Rachel has no such inhibitions," Brittany continues.

"What does that mean exactly?" Kurt asks.

"You guys know."

Both wait for Brittany to say more, but she's returned to her lunch.

"But she and Santana are still together?" Kurt questions.

"Of course, silly."

"So Santana didn't care?" Mercedes presses. "Because, when we, uh, told her, she seemed upset."

"Oh, well, maybe," Brittany replies. "But Santana just forgot that Rachel can do whatever she wants."

"I'm sorry, what?" Kurt asks. "Did you just say that Rachel can do whatever she wants?"

Brittany nods.

"And that includes kissing other people?" Mercedes asks.

"Yep. Well not Finn, because he's a douchebag. But yeah."

"What about Santana?"

"What about her?"

"Does she get to kiss other people?"

"Of course not," Brittany answers. "That's against the rules."

"What rules?"

"What about Quinn?" Mercedes asks.

"What about her?"

"Will she be kissing Rachel again?"

Brittany stares at the pair for a moment, cocking her head slightly. "You should just ask Rachel this stuff. I don't really know the specifics."

"All right."

"Though, I'd be careful what I ask," Brittany says. "Rachel doesn't like people butting into her personal business. She gets mad." She then stands. "See you guys later."

Kurt and Mercedes are left staring after her.

**…**

"I still don't see why I'm here," Santana grouses.

"Because I asked and you couldn't say no," Rachel replies.

"I don't think questions asked post coital should count."

"Too bad."

"And why did it have to be _her_," Santana continues. "You know she's totally crushing on you."

"Santana, honestly," Rachel admonishes. "Marisa simply admires my talent while realizing I am an excellent mentor."

"Uh huh."

"She doesn't have a crush on me," Rachel insists.

"Right," Santana says. "And we didn't have sex right before we came here."

"Santana," Rachel hisses. "Keep your voice down."

"My girlfriend's hot," Santana replies. "I have no reason to be ashamed."

"Well nonetheless, I'm not entirely comfortable advertising it," Rachel replies. "Besides, you're just irritated because we could be having sex now."

"Damn straight."

"Yes, well if you stop your whining, I'll definitely be making it up to you later."

"When?" Santana questions. "We have glee this afternoon."

"You can't come over after dinner?"

"Yeah, I guess. But my mom's been giving me weird looks whenever I mention you."

"Say we're doing a glee assignment together."

"Maybe."

**…**

"Hi," Quinn says shyly sitting next to Rachel when she arrives in the choir room.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel replies. "I trust your day is going well?"

Quinn nods.

"Excellent," Rachel says. "And now you're ready for another invigorating session of practice, yes?"

"Invigorating?"

"Well, perhaps I'm overstating it a bit," Rachel admits. "But if we don't all approach glee with a positive gung-ho attitude, we'll never get anywhere."

"Good luck achieving that then, Berry," Quinn replies.

"Hope springs eternal, Quinn."

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes walk into the choir room to find Quinn and Rachel huddled together, looking very cozy.

They sit in the back, as far away as possible.

"Do you think she's dating both of them?" Kurt whispers, unable to stop watching.

"Rachel Berry? Hell no."

"But look at them," Kurt sputters.

"I see them."

"What explanation do you have?"

"It's Rachel," Mercedes says. "That's like trying to explain the success of _Two and a Half Men_. It just is."

"Maybe."

"Let's see what Santana does when she see it," Mercedes tells him.

**…**

"…this is still kind of odd, isn't it?" Rachel asks Quinn.

"Yeah."

"Would you prefer that I left you alone?" Rachel questions.

"No," Quinn replies. "I'm hoping that lots of intense exposure will make the pain fade."

"I am sorry, Quinn." Rachel lays her hand on Quinn's knee and then quickly retracts it.

"It's fine, Berry," Quinn replies. "Well not really, but we said we'd try, right?"

"Right."

"So this is us trying."

**…**

"Can you believe it?" Kurt asks Mercedes as they leave school once glee's over. "Nothing."

"I know," Mercedes agrees. "Rachel really is the most powerful person at McKinley. Even if she isn't dating them both, she still obviously has _some_thing over them."

"But what?"

"I can't imagine. Maybe she got some embarrassing Cheerio stuff from Coach Sylvester."

"Oh god," Kurt says. "I forgot about Coach."

"That has to be it," Mercedes says. "She has something on Coach Sylvester which she used to get something over Quinn and Santana and probably Figgins."

"Figgins?"

"She's going after all sources of power in the school," Mercedes answers. "It's why Mr. Schue is still at odds with her. She's letting her focus drift from glee."

"Mr. Schuester's always been at odds with her."

"Exactly," Mercedes agrees. "Maybe that's why her focus switched. She wasn't getting the results she wanted from him, so she picked another target."

"Whoa," Kurt mutters. "You're making her sound like a scheming villain, like she should be petting a cat or having sharks with lasers."

"Well then let's hear your theory."

Driving, Kurt can only half shrug.

**…**

When Santana arrives home, minutes before her curfew, she finds her mother waiting for her.

"Have a seat," Mrs. Lopez says as her daughter enters the kitchen.

Santana curses under her breath as she sits; if only she'd gone directly to her room.

"Where were you tonight?"

"Why?"

"You weren't at Brittany's."

"I never said I was," Santana retorted.

"No. You just let me assume," her mother answers. "Which I really disapprove of."

Santana nods.

"So you're not going to tell me where you were?"

Santana shrugs. "It's no big deal."

"Then you should be able to tell me."

"I'd really rather not talk about it."

"You can't say things like that to me," Mrs. Lopez replies. "It makes me believe you're getting into trouble. Or worse."

"What could be worse than getting into trouble?" Santana asks. "Doesn't almost everything bad fall under getting into trouble?"

"Nor do I need any of your smart mouth," Mrs. Lopez replies.

Santana sighs. "I was at Rachel's."

Mrs. Lopez's eyes narrow. "Then why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"When did you start caring?"

"_Santana_. I've always cared. I've just chosen to trust you. Apparently that was a mistake."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"For now? Nothing." Mrs. Lopez stands. "Good night, dear. You best get some sleep. I know how Coach Sylvester is. Your practice tomorrow will be brutal, I'm sure."

Santana waits, but her mother apparently has nothing else to say, so she heads upstairs to her room.

**…**

Rachel is just crawling into bed when her cell phone rings. It says _Lopez residence_, which is odd because she knows if Santana was calling her, she'd do it from her cell. Unless she got it taken away. Though, Rachel can't imagine how her girlfriend managed _that_ so quickly.

On the last ring, Rachel answers. "Hello?"

"Rachel?"

"Speaking."

"Yes dear, this is Clara Lopez, Santana's mother?"

"Hello Mrs. Lopez."

"Hello dear, listen, could I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Was Santana with you tonight?"

Rachel blushes, thankful they're speaking on the phone, as she remembers how Santana was with her. "She was."

"I see."

"Did I keep her out too late?" Rachel asks. "I didn't mean to. I'm not sure if Santana mentioned it, but when it comes to glee, I become a bit focused and sometimes lose track of time. I apologize if I made her break her curfew."

"You didn't dear," Mrs. Lopez says. "She just made it. However when I asked her where she was, she was rather defensive and I thought perhaps she was lying."

"Oh. Well, that's understandable. Did she tell you to call me?"

"No she didn't, which is also what made me suspicious. Usually when she's up to something, she tries to cover it up by demanding I call her, uh, alibi. However, she didn't this time and I was curious why."

"Well, she left my house about, maybe twenty minutes ago now. So I assume she didn't get into too much trouble on the way home."

Mrs. Lopez chuckles. "No. Most likely not."

"If I may ask, Mrs. Lopez," Rachel says. "But how did you get my cell number?"

"I have my ways, dear."

"No offense, ma'am, but that sounds very creepy." Rachel cringes. "I didn't mean it like that." All she needs to do is make her girlfriend's mother hate her before they out themselves.

"That's all right dear," Mrs. Lopez replies. "It was meant to sound ominous, but I suppose creepy will have to do."

"Okay. Well, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No dear, that will do for now. Good night."

"Night Mrs. Lopez."

**…**

"S."

"Q."

"No shadows this morning?"

Santana shakes her head. "B said she had stuff to do, and well, you know Rachel."

Quinn nods.

Santana slams her locker shut and the pair begin walking down the hall.

"So what were you and my girl talking about yesterday in glee?"

Quinn shrugs. "Nothing really. Just, trying, I guess." Quinn glances at Santana. "You guys didn't talk about it yesterday? I would've thought that jealous streak in you would have demanded knowing."

"I'm trying to be more relaxed about that."

"Ha. How's that going?" Quinn asks.

"As well as you can imagine, Q," Santana growls. "You're lucky you're my best friend. Anyone else would have taken a ride in a port-a-potty."

"For which you would pay for," Quinn replies.

Kurt and Mercedes suddenly scurry by, shooting the pair odd looks.

"What's up with those two?"

"Who knows?" Santana replies. "Probably freaking over something horrible they think I did. The usual."

"Oh."

"We should totally make out in front of them, just to confuse 'em."

"Uh…"

"That was a joke, Q."

"Right. A joke."

"Too soon?"

"Maybe," Quinn says.

"Sorry."

**…**

Puck finds Rachel in the choir room during lunch.

"So Berry, what's the deal with you and baby mama?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Noah."

"You two are still acting all weird," Puck says. "I thought that whole crush thing got all figured out."

"It takes a bit longer for us to deal with things than you might believe, Noah," Rachel replies. "We don't just push things aside and ignore them. We deal with them."

"Ignoring things is the best way to deal, Rach," Puck says.

"It's not healthy."

"Uh huh."

"If you dealt with things head on like I do," Rachel lectures. "You would have a better relationship with your quote unquote baby mama. Instead, you two pretend like the teenage pregnancy didn't happen. It's going to back fire on you one day."

Puck shrugs. "Maybe. But that day is hopefully a long off."

**…**

Santana is in the last stall in the girls bathroom covering some very old, but extremely harsh graffiti about Rachel. She's been meaning to do it for a while, but never remembers to steal Coach's massive permanent marker.

The bathroom door swings open and Santana keeps quiet. She's not in the mood to deal with anyone at the moment.

"…I'm just saying the evidence is staggering," Kurt's voice floats into the stall. "I think we should assume crash positions."

"You're blowing this completely out of proportion," Mercedes replies. "Maybe Britt was exaggerating."

"Does she even know how?"

"Or maybe she was screwing with us," Mercedes continues.

"You really think that?" Kurt asks. "Once again, does she even know how?"

Santana fights back a growl as she debates whether or not to defend her best friend.

"I have no idea," Mercedes answers. "Personally I think we just need to give Rachel a wide berth."

"Yeah," Kurt says reluctantly

"What? You want a confrontation? What if you're right?" Mercedes asks. "She'll annihilate us."

"You don't really think that do you?" Kurt questions.

"Who knows?" After all these years, I still don't understand Rachel Berry."

"Well, yeah."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely, right?"

"If you say so."

**…**

Santana's beginning to wonder if dating Rachel Berry has tamed her. There's a party tonight, but she has no need to go. She would if Brittany wanted to, but thankfully, the blonde seems rather indifferent.

"Have Kurt and Mercedes been acting weird around you, lately?" Santana asks Brittany. "Or is it just me?"

They're currently laying intertwined on Brittany's bed while the TV blares something useless. Santana would change it if Britt hadn't lost the remote. Standing to change the channel isn't an option.

"No, they're weird. But only cause they're trying to figure out if Rachel is an evil villain."

"Say that again."

"They're starting to figure out how powerful and awesome Rachel is," Brittany explains. "And they don't even know the half of it."

"I see," Santana says. "Well that's fun."

"It is," Brittany nods. "Can you imagine their faces when they realize Rachel's the prankster?

Santana smirks. "I really hope she lets people know eventually."

"Of course she will, silly," Brittany replies. "She wants everyone to know they were under her thumb or whatever."

"There's that ego again."

"Or retribution."

"So are Kurt and Mercedes afraid of Rachel?" Santana asks.

"Don't know. Maybe."

"Hmmm. I could have some fun with that."

**…**

Sunday evening Santana returns to an empty looking house. She left Rachel's later than usual and so it's most likely both her parents are out. She takes the stairs two at a time up to her room.

"We need to talk, Santana."

"Jesus, mom, you scared the sh-crap out of me."

Santana finds her mother sitting on her bed in the dark, apparently waiting for her daughter.

"Sit down."

Santana does, sitting at her desk, as far away from her mom's probing eyes as possible.

"You've been lying to me."

"I have not. About what?"

"You're dating someone," Mrs. Lopez says.

"Um, what makes you say that?"

Clara Lopez just eyes her daughter for a moment. "You're in an excellent mood, you're constantly texting or on your phone, you're never around-"

"Those things have always been true, except for the mood thing. I'm definitely not in an excellent mood."

"There's also the hickey on your neck," Mrs. Lopez says quietly.

Santana's hand flies to her neck. She curses her oral fixated girlfriend. She knows that saying sex isn't dating to her mother isn't the best idea, so she just keeps quiet.

"He's older isn't he?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "Or worse, is it one of your teachers? That Mr. Schuester? I never did like that man. Smiles too widely to be truly sincere. Not to mention-"

"Gross mom," Santana interrupts. "It's definitely not Mr. Schue. I'd rather make out with my brother."

"Well then now that you've confirmed my hypothesis, you'll be bringing him to dinner one night when both your father and I can be here."

"_Mom_."

"I'm serious Santana. If you're truly dating this person, then it's serious. Which means I want to meet him. So does your father."

"Yeah, but-"

"No. I'll talk to your father and then the four of us will be sitting down to dinner sometime this week."

Santana sighs, knowing it's inevitable. "Fine."

"Good." Mrs. Lopez stands. "Well good night dear." She closes the door behind her.

"God damnit."

**…**

Monday morning Rachel is on her way to her locker when someone yanks her into the girls bathroom. Turning to scold whoever grabbed her, Rachel finds her girlfriend clearing the bathroom.

Once it's definitely empty, Santana says, "We need to talk."

"Never would have guessed," Rachel comments, wryly.

"."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"My parents want you to come over for dinner Wednesday night," Santana says, slower.

"So? They like me well enough," Rachel replies. "It'll be fine."

"No, you don't understand," Santana says. "They want to meet the person I'm dating Wednesday night."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Rachel gets a shy smile on her face. "You told them?"

"Hell no," Santana replies. "I came home last night and my mom confronted me. Said that if I was dating someone, she and my dad have to meet him."

"Him?"

"I'm sorry babe," Santana continues. "I tried to get out of it, but this morning, my mom told me in no uncertain terms that it was happening Wednesday night."

"Oh."

"So, unless you have something else you absolutely _have_ to do, you're supposed to be at my house at 6:30."

"You want me to have something to do," Rachel comments.

"Of course I do," Santana replies. "The more involved my parents are in my life, the more say they think they have."

"I don't see the harm in meeting your parents as your suitor and not just a friend," Rachel continues.

"Because it's just the beginning. It took over a year to get my parents off my back about things and let me do what I want. Meeting you is going to turn the tide in their favor."

"Why do you sound like you're planning a military invasion?"

"The parent/child relationship is complicated," Santana explains.

"True," Rachel agrees. "But I still don't see why you're approaching dinner with your parents as a conflict. Perhaps it would be wiser to approach with an open mind. People can surprise you sometimes."

"Yeah, by being even bigger idiots than I thought," Santana says. "No thanks. You can skip through the field of flowers and optimism, I'll stay in reality."

"This is one of those times where I find your attitude quite troublesome."

"I was thinking the same thing about yours."

**…**

"Whatcha thinking about?" Brittany asks Santana as they sit at lunch.

They're at the Cheerios table, but slightly separated from everyone, so the blonde is confident that her best friend will confide in her.

"Mom demanded to meet Rachel last night."

"Oooh. Now it's serious."

"Exactly."

"Are you nervous?" Brittany asks. "That's so cute, S."

"I am _not_ cute," Santana growls. "But yeah, maybe a little nervous."

"Why? Parents love Rachel. As long as your folks aren't anti gay or Nazis."

"Which they're not."

"That's what I said," Brittany continues. "Rachel makes a good impression. What you should really worry about is when you have to meet her dads."

"Britt…"

"I mean, you kinda have an attitude, not to mention how much we used to pick on Rachy. Plus you know how dads are about someone dating their little girl; and Rachel's got two that worry about her."

"Britt, you're really not helping," Santana says.

"Oh. Was I supposed to be helping?" Brittany asks. "Helping what, exactly?"

"B…"

"Hey guys."

"Quinn, hi," Brittany exclaims.

"What's got her all pissy?" Quinn asks, nodding to Santana.

"Oh, I'm not really helping," Brittany explains.

"Okay then. Never mind," Quinn says. "Why are sitting at the Cheerios table, but not sitting by anyone?"

"Because we're more awesome than they are," Brittany tells her.

"Well, I suppose that's certainly true."

**…**

Despite the drama her relationship is giving her, Santana has every intention of following through with her plan of messing with Kurt and Mercedes. If anything, she thinks the whole parent dinner thing demands she does. It'll distract her for a bit; which is good. She's had a strong desire to slushie people this morning. It didn't really matter who, though anyone that got in her way was in danger. The only thing that stopped her was the repercussion from her girlfriend.

This, however, reminded her about the whole dinner thing, which just made her want to slushie someone again. It became a circular train of thought until Santana had a brainstorm of how to mess with Kurt and Mercedes.

**…**

Rachel walks into glee to find she's not the first to arrive. Kurt and Mercedes are in the back, huddled together. She waves at them and they distractedly wave back, so she decides to ignore their presence. She goes about her warm ups as if they're not there.

Mike is the next to arrive. He waves at Kurt and Mercedes before sitting. He half waves at Rachel knowing interrupting her is dangerous. To his surprise, she waves back.

Brittany bounces in next. She waves to everyone and then embraces Rachel. Santana and Quinn enter just as Rachel is shooting Brittany an exasperated, but indulgent look.

Puck is next, followed by Finn. Just as Rachel is finishing, Tina and Artie arrive. Sighing at Mr. Schue's expected tardiness, Rachel joins her girlfriend, who's sitting in the middle row. Mercedes and Kurt are behind them while Quinn and Brittany sit in front of them.

"Hey babe," Santana says, leaning in for a definitely not chaste kiss.

"Santana," Rachel hisses.

"Sorry babe," Santana replies, hanging her head.

"What is up with you?" Rachel whispers, scooting her chair closer.

"I wanna try something," Santana whispers back. "Go along."

Rachel sighs. "Fine."

Speaking a little louder, Santana asks, "I know we were supposed to hang after glee, just me and you, but I think maybe we should include Quinn."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because, you know," Santana starts. "I mean, I know you and she are, you know, but I really can't handle not knowing. I figured if the three of us hung out, I wouldn't have to wonder. And then you can, you know, with the both of us. I know you'd prefer it that way. Saves _you_time."

Rachel shoots her girlfriend an odd look, but doing what she asked, simply says, "You've really thought this through."

"Of course. I know that's what you prefer. And I'd never want to make you angry."

Rachel sighs. She has a feeling she knows where this is going. She wonders if Santana has truly corrupted her because she doesn't feel remotely ashamed of helping Santana mess with Kurt and Mercedes. "If you would simply follow the very basic instructions I laid out, it wouldn't be an issue."

"I know. I'm sorry about before," Santana says. "Getting upset about the Quinn thing."

"I've already moved past that, tiger. You need to as well. After all, everyone is allowed to make mistakes. You simply forgot the rules, is all."

"Well now that I've had time to mull over this Quinn angle, I understand."

"I hope so. Because I have no qualms about-"

"You won't have to, I swear," Santana assures her.

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

Mr. Schue's late entrance stops the conversation. Clapping his hands, he has them line up for the first song.

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes haven't moved from their seats, even though glee has been over for at least ten minutes.

"What the hell was that?" Kurt asks for the third time.

"She really is sleeping with both of them," Mercedes mutters.

"What else do you think she's in control of?"

**…**

"Thanks for going along with that," Santana says. "And building off it."

They're currently sitting in Santana's car which is in the Berry driveway. Santana actually isn't able to come over tonight, so they have to settle with a ride home.

"It's fine," Rachel sighs. "I don't understand why you feel the need to tease them."

"It's fun."

"Well, right now, they just think I'm dating both of you. Quinn isn't going to appreciate that."

Santana waves it off. "I'll explain it to Q. Besides, those two aren't going to say anything to me or her. Britt, maybe. That seems to be their MO."

"I still think you're playing a dangerous game," Rachel says. "Remember what happened last time you tried something similar."

"I know. But this time I planned a bit. Besides, except for the dual dating, everything's true. You are like the most powerful person at McKinley."

"Oh god, are they still on that?"

Santana smacks Rachel in the arm. "You knew and you didn't tell me? You never let me have any fun."

"I got distracted by the whole I'm abusing you thing."

"Oh. Yeah. That."

"Yes, exactly."

"Well I'm going to keep messing with them," Santana says.

"Fine. I'm not your keeper."

"One could argue that you are, actually," Santana smirks.

"You know what I mean."

**…**

Puck stops by Rachel's locker so they can walk to lunch together. She's uncharacteristically quiet, answering his questions with simple replies and not asking any questions of her own.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Puck asks finally.

"I'm meeting Santana's parents tonight."

"Whoa. Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Big step."

"Agreed," Rachel says.

"Finally got to up the seriousness level, eh?"

"Certainly not, Noah," Rachel replies. "I don't push-"

"Because you don't want to be disappointed."

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "It's also rather difficult to gauge Santana's reaction to various requests."

"It's not like you haven't pushed before," Puck points out.

"Because I already knew what the answer is," Rachel explains.

"Weirdo."

"Thanks, Noah."

"So is she gonna meet your dads?"

"Not if I can help it," Rachel retorts.

"Hypocrite."

"We both know meeting my dads isn't a good idea, Noah," Rachel replies.

"She's going to ask."

"Eventually, I'm sure," Rachel says. "But at the moment, she's distracted."

"Enjoy the reprieve, Berry."

**…**

"You shouldn't be nervous," Brittany tells Rachel.

Rachel had been doing her homework, surprised when the doorbell rang. However, she'd been even more surprised to find Brittany standing there.

"I came to keep your mind off it."

And now an hour later, Brittany is watching Rachel pace.

"Actually I believe it's perfectly natural to be nervous," Rachel answers. "I think not being nervous would mean this relationship isn't important to me. But it is important. And if something's important, really important, than you should be nervous about its outcome. Don't you think?"

"I do," Brittany nods.

"And it's definitely important. And I just have to be calm and polite and San's parents will see how important she is to me. And hopefully vice versa-"

"Hopefully you're important to Santana?"

"Hopefully they'll see how important I am to their daughter and then they'll forgive the whole deception thing. Because this relationship is important. Very important."

"You're saying the word important a lot, Rach."

"I know, Britt," Rachel replies. "I'm just nervous."

"Why? San's parents already like you," Brittany points out.

"A friend is different than the person sleeping with your daughter," Rachel replies. "No matter what the gender."

"You and San are just too paranoid."

"I like to be prepared," Rachel says.

"I know," Brittany replies. "I made a shirt."

**…**

Anxious, Rachel stands outside the Lopez residence, taking deep breaths. When she feels slightly less panicked, she rings the doorbell.

The door swings open to reveal a surprised looking Mrs. Lopez.

"Rachel, dear, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for dinner," Rachel explains. "Santana told me to come over. Am I early? She said 6:30."

"Um, no, not exactly." Mrs. Lopez steps aside and ushers Rachel in. "But my daughter may have left out a detail or two."

"That certainly sounds possible," Rachel mutters.

"Santana Lopez, get yourself downstairs. Now!"

There's absolute silence and then the thundering of footsteps.

"Yeah, mom? Oh hi, Rach."

"Santana, dear," Mrs. Lopez begins. "Rachel says you asked her to stop by for dinner at 6:30 today. Is there something you neglected to tell me?"

Rachel's eyes go wide with Mrs. Lopez's words. " _Santana_! Tell me you didn't…"

"Oh. Heh, did I forget to mention I'm dating Rachel?" Santana says, sheepishly. "Sorry."

Rachel's eyes narrow.

"You just happen to forget?" Mrs. Lopez asks, sounding extremely skeptical.

"Ooops?"

"Well, then you can go introduce your _girl_friend to your father then," Mrs. Lopez tells her. She turns to Rachel "It's lovely to have you dear. I'm just going to go in the kitchen and once Santana is done with her task, she'll come help me."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Santana," Rachel hisses

"Yes, mother."

"Thank you, dear." Mrs. Lopez strides into the kitchen.

Rachel smacks Santana on the arm. Hard.

"Ow, that actually hurt."

"Good," Rachel says. "You deserve worse. Come on then, introduce me to your father."

"You two have already met."

"You heard your mother," Rachel says. "Besides, how else will he know why I'm here?"

"Fine."

**…**

Santana's father is in the living room reading the paper.

"Papa?" Santana says.

He looks up expectantly from his newspaper.

"Uh, I'd like you to meet my _girl_friend, Rachel Berry. Rachel, this is my papa, Dr. Tomás Lopez."

"Hello again, sir."

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear." Dr. Lopez glances at Santana a moment. "I see my daughter has left out some details."

"Apparently so, sir."

"What did I say, Rachel? It's Tomás. Especially now. Don't you think?"

Rachel nods emphatically. "I do indeed."

"Well, then can I escort you to the table," Dr. Lopez says, offering his arm.

"That would be delightful, si-I mean, Tomás."

Santana watches as the pair ignore her and stroll out of the room.

**…**

"What do you need, mom?" Santana asks, walking into the kitchen.

"Rachel with your father?"

"Yeah. How'd you know he'd do that?"

"Santana," her mother says, exasperated. "We've been married for over twenty years. Don't you think I should be able to predict his reaction?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good. Open this bottle of wine. I know you know how." Mrs. Lopez hands Santana a corkscrew and a bottle. "I need a glass with dinner to put up with you."

"Hey," Santana says, as she rips off the foil. "This whole dinner thing was your idea, mom. Not mine."

"I know. If you had it your way, I wouldn't even know Rachel as your friend, much less as the person you're dating."

"Damn straight."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"And I don't know what game you're playing young lady, but I promise that you will not win. Just remember where you came from."

"Mom, I wasn't trying-"

"Do not lie to me, _dear_."

"I didn't know how to tell you," Santana admits.

"Santana…"

"I mean, what if you hate me? Or worse, Rachel? Because I can't stop dating her mom. I can't."

Mrs. Lopez pulls Santana in for a hug. "San, darling, have we ever made you stop seeing anyone? Even that questionable pool boy?"

Santana shakes her head.

"At least Rachel is a polite, hard working young lady."

"She's more than that," Santana says, pulling out of the hug. "She's amazing."

"I'm sure she is, honey," Mrs. Lopez says. "That still doesn't change how we found out about her."

"Right. Course not."

**…**

"How do you think it's going in there?" Rachel asks Mr. Lopez.

"Difficult to say. Depends on how forthright Santana is."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"Since we're alone, I thought we could talk." He looks at Rachel over the table, his eyes solemn.

"Uh, all right."

"So you're seeing my daughter," Mr. Lopez begins.

Rachel nods.

"How long?"

Rachel gulps. "Months."

"I see." Mr. Lopez leans back, eyes still locked with Rachel's. "And how do I know you're not taking advantage of her?"

"Sir, certainly you know that Santana can take care of herself."

"Physically, perhaps," Mr. Lopez agrees. "But emotionally? Hardly."

Rachel nods. "I love her."

"She's difficult to love," Mr. Lopez prompts.

Rachel shakes her head. "Not at all. She's easy to love. She's difficult to reason with, but not to love."

"And she's good to you?"

"She tries."

"And you're good to her?"

"I do my best, sir."

Mr. Lopez nods. "And if I may ask, how were you able to forgive her so easily? If I remember correctly, you two don't have the nicest history between you."

Rachel stares in shock a moment. "Uh, well, I don't really believe in holding grudges. Ever since we became friends over the summer, she's been a lot better. Everyone deserves a second chance, you know? However, the moment she reverts, it's over. It doesn't matter how much I love her, I can't put up with that from my, uh, girlfriend." Though Rachel isn't entirely sure if that's true. It's what she believes, but if she really had to make that decision, Rachel has no idea what she would do.

Mr. Lopez nods in thought. "I'm glad to hear that. Santana can be _quite_ cruel. I think Coach Sylvester and Quinn Fabray bring it out in her."

"Entirely possible."

"Months, you say?"

"Yes sir."

"And yet you two don't seem to spend that much time together," Mr. Lopez comments.

"We're both very busy."

"The weekend, then?"

Rachel nods. "Well, Saturday."

"Into Sunday morning."

Rachel gulps. "Um, yes?"

"You needn't be nervous Rachel," Mr. Lopez says. "Lima is a small town. I am well aware of my daughter's reputation."

Rachel, nonetheless, gulps again.

"At least with you, I know she's being loved and treated with respect."

Rachel nods emphatically.

"Because I won't stand for any less for my baby girl."

"Understood, sir."

"Excellent," Mr. Lopez says. "I knew we'd be on the same page."

**…**

Dinner is still awkward. Santana knows this is largely her fault, but is also afraid what too much apologizing will do.

"The food is delicious, Mrs. Lopez," Rachel says.

"Thank you dear. And it's Clara."

"Right. Of course."

The awkward silence returns.

"We'll expect to see you around more, Rachel," Mr. Lopez says.

"And of course you'll be joining us for family dinner Sundays," Mrs. Lopez says.

"_Mom_."

"You do not get to be indignant, Santana," Mrs. Lopez tells her.

"Fine."

"Um, well, I suppose I could do that," Rachel allows.

"And I'd like to meet your parents," Mrs. Lopez continues.

"My parents?"

"Yes," Mrs. Lopez replies. "Though I'm curious how long they've known."

Rachel looks down at her plate. "They don't actually know _yet_."

"Oh."

The awkward silence is back.

"May I ask why, dear?" Mrs. Lopez asks finally.

"Um, well, my reasons are similar to Santana's, I suppose."

"But you two spend all day Saturday together," Mr. Lopez points out. "And you're never here. Surely they've noticed Santana's presence and questioned it."

"They, uh, work a lot."

The silence is now filled with a palpable tension.

"Well, I hope once you tell your folks, we'll be able to meet them," Mrs. Lopez says.

"That would be nice," Rachel replies quietly.

**…**

Dinner gets slightly better as they move on to topics like school and glee. Rachel becomes the charming, effervescent dinner guest Brittany predicted and they're able to ignore the slight tension still floating about. Santana bounces back and forth between grumbling teenager and proud girlfriend, depending on the topic.

Still all parties involved consider it a successful dinner. However, Santana knows she's in the doghouse with her girlfriend and possibly grounded by her parents.

Santana's allowed to walk Rachel to her car where they engage in a heated make out session which Rachel only agrees to because the possibility of not seeing each other one on one for a while is a distinct possibility.

**…**

Rachel calls Brittany when she gets home because the blonde had demanded she do so.

"So how'd it go?"

"Your friend is cut off," Rachel replies.

"Ah, what did San do?" Brittany asks. "Bring up sex at an inappropriate moment? Cause she does that sometimes."

"No. She didn't tell her parents _who_ was coming over."

"_Oh_."

"Exactly."

"Well, she probably didn't know how to bring it up."

"Then she could have warned me of that fact," Rachel says.

"Maybe she didn't know how to bring it up."

"Britt, I just-"

"I meant with any of you. You know how S is."

Rachel sighs. She does indeed. "Well, I don't have to like it."

"She's really gonna get it from her mom," Brittany comments.

"Yes, well, that doesn't stop me from also being upset."

"Course not. But the dinner went okay?"

"As well as can be expected," Rachel replies.

"Good. Oh, San's calling. Want me to reject?"

"No need Britt, I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Night Rach," Brittany chirps.

**…**

The morning Rachel arrives at school to find a bouquet of flowers attached to her locker. It being McKinley, she's apprehensive at first until she finds a card sticking out.

_My parents love you. I really am sorry I didn't tell them. You know how I hate sharing. Forgive me? S_

Rachel can't really blame Santana for not telling them, though she wishes her girlfriend could have least given _her_ a heads up. Still, it seems hypocritical considering she's planning on _never_ telling her dads.

However, she does plan on letting Santana grovel a bit because she's curious about how Santana will approach her. So instead of calling or texting Santana, Rachel finds a water bottle and places the flowers inside before placing them in her locker and heading to class.

**…**

Santana checks her phone for the twentieth time this morning. She didn't seek Rachel out before class, hoping a bit of space would work in her favor. Apparently flowers and space aren't going to be enough this time.

Her parents mostly let her off the hook, though she's not allowed to go over to Rachel's until Saturday morning. And Rachel is definitely expected for Sunday dinner. She also knows they'll want more detailed reports about her comings and goings.

It's exactly what she didn't want.

Still, she supposes it could have been worse. She thought for sure she'd be grounded, but not being able to go over to Rachel's for _one_ night hardly seemed like a punishment.

Rachel, on the other hand…

Santana had thought the flowers would work for sure. Not being one for simple romantic gestures like that, Santana had hoped the novelty would be enough to work in her favor.

She'll just have to think of something else.

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes are first to glee again. They been noticing some odd goings on with Rachel and Santana today and they don't want to miss anything.

Surprisingly Brittany, Santana and Quinn enter next. Quinn looks extremely uncomfortable with the conversation she's participating in as the three of them settle in the back row on the opposite side of the room.

They both strain to hear what's being said, but they catch the occasional word like, "pissed off", "fault" and "Rachel". This, of course, only piques their curiosity more.

**…**

Quinn _is_ extremely uncomfortable. It's been a few weeks since the big revelation, which is how she thinks of it, but not enough time has passed for her to feel okay about helping Santana get back into Rachel's good graces.

Part of her, the selfish part that she's trying to get better at ignoring, is telling her to swoop in and steal the girl from her best friend. However, the more logical part of her brain is very loudly telling that part to shut up This part also knows she doesn't stand a chance with Rachel because the singer had told her so. Not to be cruel or mean, but to be honest and hopefully help her move on.

So while Brittany's actively coming up with ideas, Quinn is mostly giving her opinion on said ideas. It's the best she can do at the moment.

At least Santana apologized for even bringing it up.

**…**

Finn has been over hearing some odd things from Kurt lately. He doesn't mean to, but living together means they'll occasionally accidently hear bits and pieces of conversation.

Lately, Kurt's been saying that Rachel is the most powerful person at McKinley, which he just doesn't understand. Despite dating that bitch, Santana, Rachel's popularity hasn't risen a bit. And while the slushies have stopped, everyone knows that's more because of Santana than Rachel.

Finn knows Rachel is awesome, if a little misguided at the moment, but he's not sure the title of most powerful person at McKinley should go to her. That's a title held by Quinn, as head Cheerio, or him as the quarterback. Even Puck would qualify first being on the football team and being a self proclaimed stud.

Sitting in glee, watching Kurt and Mercedes watch Rachel is kinda creepy, he can admit. But it's the only way he's going to figure it out for himself. He can't ask Kurt because he'll just get a lecture about etiquette or something.

Finn can admit he sees some of the reasons Kurt and Mercedes might believe Rachel to be powerful; though he really thinks it's that she knows who to surround herself with. He watches Rachel and Quinn smile at each other and finds it hard to believe a few weeks ago, Quinn claimed to hate Rachel's very existence.

He decides to come up with a plan that will answer the question for himself, as well as Kurt and Mercedes.

**…**

Friday at lunch and Santana is apparently still in the doghouse. She's barely seen Rachel, which isn't exactly unusual, but she's also heard very little from her. Usually if they don't see each other at night, they'll at least talk for a while. It's something they've started recently, almost subconsciously needing to connect more.

She did receive a text last night from Rachel, but it was so brief, it bordered on rude, which Santana interprets as anger from her girlfriend. While righteous indignation causes words to spew forth, anger at Santana causes her to clam up.

Santana wonders if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

**…**

In actuality, Rachel's not still pissed, just busy.

It's not her fault that Santana interpreted her text as hostile. It wasn't meant that way.

Having more time than usual the night before, Rachel had been bouncing around the internet and stumbled onto the perfect bro activity. However, she also knows Santana would love it as well.

And so she's bound and determined to make it happen.

Now all she needs to figure out is how to get to Kasota, MN.

The biggest obstacle in her mind is the money. Road trips are expensive nowadays; not to mention the actual costs when they arrive. Still, now that the idea is in her head, it has to happen. She's Rachel Berry, if she needs to raise a large amount of cash, she can do it.

**…**

Santana, meanwhile, is still trying to figure out what she can do to get Rachel to forgive her. Brittany isn't a lot of help.

"You should get her a kitty," Brittany suggests. "They make everyone happy."

"I don't think Rachel needs a kitten, B," Santana replies.

"Right," Brittany nods. "Besides, takes time away from you."

"Uh, yeah, that too."

Part Two

The doorbell rings, signaling the beginning of bro night. Rachel races down the stairs and opens the door with a flourish.

"Why are you so giddy?" Puck asks Rachel.

"Can't I just be pleased to see my bro for some fun bro-ings ons?"

"I'm pretty sure the answer to that question is, no."

Rachel pouts.

"So what'd you do to Lopez?" Puck asks, slumping onto the couch. "I thought dinner with the folks went all right."

"It went fine, except for a certain girlfriend forgetting to mention to her parents _who_ she was dating."

Puck bursts out laughing; nearly spilling the beer he just opened.

"Yes, it was just as much fun as you're imagining," Rachel says sitting next to him, careful to ignore the splatter of beer.

"But you were still Rachel Berry, right?"

"Of course I was Noah," Rachel replies. "And what exactly does that mean?"

"_Meaning_ you did your usual and still made a good impression."

"I suppose I did."

"So no worries then," Puck replies.

"I'm supposed to have Sunday dinner over there occasionally," Rachel says.

Puck chuckles. "And here I just thought Lopez was being a pussy about this little dinner, but it seems her fears weren't unfounded."

"Fears?"

"Too much parental involvement in her life," Puck explains.

"Oh."

**…**

Saturday morning, Rachel is woken up by her cell phone.

"Hello?" she answers without looking.

"Hey babe," Santana greets.

"Morning," Rachel replies. "Are you running late? What time is it?"

"It's nine o'clock. No. I'm outside."

"Um, okay. So you're not coming inside?"

"I wasn't sure you'd hear the doorbell," Santana replies.

"Please tell me you didn't lose your key," Rachel says.

"No."

"Santana," Rachel huffs. "You woke me up. So either come in and cuddle with me or explain what your issue with simple sentences because I need coffee for anything else."

"Okay."

Rachel looks at her cell. _Call ended_. She's going to assume that means San is on her way up. She turns slightly and shakes Noah.

"Noah, Noah, wake up."

"_What_ Berry? This better be good. I was dreaming I was about to score the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl."

"Santana's on her way up."

"So?"

"I'm just telling you because she may kick you out."

"Not this time, kiddies," Santana says, closing the door behind her.

Both occupants of the bed watch her kick off her shoes and strip to her underwear. She then crawls into bed and pulls Rachel onto her.

"If you two wanna fool around in front of me, I'd consider it an early birthday present," Noah says.

"You know damn well your birthday is a long ways off, Puck," Santana snorts.

"Christmas?"

"You're Jewish. And once again, _months_ away."

"Spoilsport," Noah mumbles.

"Will you two keep your bickering down?" Rachel asks. "I'm trying to fall asleep on my girlfriend."

Noah looks over at the clock and groans. "And early. What the hell, Lopez?"

"Shut up Puckerman."

"_Guys_. It's too early for this. Both of you shut up and go to sleep."

**…**

Santana and Rachel don't get out of bed when Puck leaves. It feels like they haven't seen each other in forever, even if it's only been a few days.

"School doesn't count," Santana grouses, as Rachel tries to get closer, though there's already no space between them. "I'm glad you're not mad still."

"Disappointed. Perplexed. Exasperated. But not angry."

"_That_ makes me feel better."

"I understand why you might have been hesitant to tell your parents, but I am thoroughly irritated that you wouldn't have at least warned me," Rachel replies. "After everything I believe I deserve some forewarning."

"I know," Santana says. "I guess I was embarrassed."

"By me?"

"Hardly," Santana scoffs. "At the situation. I mean, I just felt so awkward. My parents are great. Really. Though if questioned, I will deny I said that."

"I know," Rachel smirks.

"It's just, we've never been super close. I mean not like they are with Felix. I don't know if it's because he's a boy or the first born or they approve of his choices, but it's always felt like that. Which is why I never talk to them about whoever I've dated, even though I'm sure they figured it out."

Rachel nods.

"So when mom basically forced me to invite you, it seemed really sudden to me and I needed more time before I could tell them. Except I didn't really have that option, so I just let the situation do it for me. And then I was embarrassed by the whole thing, so I couldn't tell _you_."

"I don't understand why you weren't comfortable telling me," Rachel says. "You can't really believe I'd care about that."

Santana shrugs. "We don't really get into too much family stuff, you know? I mean, yeah we've met each other's parents, but nothing, like extensive."

"True."

"So I didn't know what to think about it."

"It turned out all right, though."

"Luckily," Santana replies. "Of course my parents love you."

"I'm very lovable."

"They're wondering how someone so sweet, considerate, polite and well mannered, ended up with me, though."

"You're sweet and considerate of some people," Rachel argues.

"But I'm not polite or well mannered?"

"Not usually."

"You're not as sweet as everyone thinks you are," Santana grumbles.

"I'm blunt, actually," Rachel counters.

"So when am I going to meet your dads as your girlfriend?" Santana asks. "Seems fair."

"You know what I want to learn how to do next?" Rachel asks. "Juggle fire. I feel it would be an excellent exercise in hand eye coordination as well as showmanship. Not to mention, it would make Noah totally jealous. He's constantly-"

"Why don't you want your dads to meet your girlfriend?"

"For similar reasons as yours," Rachel replies.

"You say that," Santana says. "But I don't think that's quite the truth."

"Why would I lie?"

"A number of reasons, I'm sure."

"I'm just not ready yet," Rachel replies, quietly.

"I'm not sure I believe that either," Santana says. "You have this tell when you're lying."

"I do not."

"You do."

"I do not."

"You do," Santana nods.

Rachel sighs. "I'm just not ready."

"I'm letting it go for now," Santana replies. "Because I'm not in the mood to fight. But eventually I expect you to introduce me as your girlfriend. _Especially_ since you've pushed for me to tell mine."

"Thank you."

"Some days, Berry," Santana tells her.

**…**

Sunday night at seven, Rachel finds herself on the Lopez front step, knocking.

The door swings open to reveal Mrs. Lopez. "Rachel dear, no need to knock, you're welcome to just come on in."

"Thanks, uh, Clara." Rachel holds up a bottle of wine. "I brought this."

Accepting it, Mrs. Lopez eyes Rachel. "And how did you get this?"

"I asked my daddy and he said I could take it," Rachel replies.

"He didn't ask _why_ you needed a bottle of wine?"

"He trusts me. I'm very trust worthy."

Pursing her lips, Mrs. Lopez just nods and gestures for Rachel to follow her.

"Hey babe," Santana greets her when they enter the kitchen.

"Your girlfriend brought wine," Mrs. Lopez says.

"Um, okay."

"I have no plans to consume it," Rachel announces. "However, I thought it would be nice to bring. My fat-er, parents have excellent taste and I'm sure it's lovely."

"I'm sure it is, dear."

"I thought I heard the door," Mr. Lopez says, stepping into the kitchen.

"Hello Tomás," Rachel greets. "It's lovely to see you again."

"You as well Rachel." He steps aside and Rachel notices Santana's brother behind him. "I'm not sure you've met our oldest, Felix."

"No, I don't believe I have," Rachel replies, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Felix."

"You too, Rachel," Felix says, shaking her hand with enthusiasm.

"Children, would you please set the table?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

Santana nods and grabs the plates. Rachel grabs silverware while Felix follows with glasses.

"Why are you here?" Santana hisses at Felix.

"Can't a young man want to eat dinner with his family every once in a while?"

"You haven't been home from college for a non break, _ever_," Santana points out as she begins setting plates.

"I had to meet this _girl_ who not only got you to commit, but tell mom and dad about," Felix smirks. "I couldn't believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes."

"You're hilarious," Santana growls.

"Well, I'm glad he's here," Rachel speaks up.

"What?"

"Thank you, Rachel. It's nice to find at least one person San's dating is polite."

"You better not cause trouble," Santana snaps.

Seeing the murderous look in his sister's eye, Felix says, "I think I'll go see if mom needs any help."

Done with placing the silverware, Rachel wraps her arms around Santana and leans her head against her shoulder blades. Santana finishes with the plates and turns in Rachel's embrace, resting her chin atop Rachel's head.

"You need to relax," Rachel says quietly.

"You're one to talk," Santana scoffs.

"A buffer of sorts is nice," Rachel replies.

"You say that now, but wait until the bastard gets going," Santana grumbles.

**…**

"So Rachel," Felix starts. "Tell me all about yourself."

"Um, there isn't much to tell," Rachel replies, feeling wary because of the panicked look Santana is giving her. "I'm a junior. I'm in glee because I like to sing. I'd like to one day perform on Broadway."

"Really?" Felix asks. "That's it?"

"The high points, I suppose."

"Hmmm."

It's quiet except for the clink of silverware.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Santana asks Felix.

"What?"

"That 'hmmm'," Santana replies. "What does that mean?"

"She's not what I expected is all," Felix replies.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Rachel asks.

"Probably a good thing," Felix tells her. "I mean, you're not a delinquent are you? My sister usually goes for the bad boy types."

"Well, who else can keep up with her?" Rachel replies. "She has a lot of… energy."

Felix smirks. "That she does."

"Though I find it rather… invigorating," Rachel continues.

"Do you?" Felix smirks.

"Quite," Rachel says. "I myself rarely stray outside of the box, but I am rather intrigued by it. I must admit that Santana's occasional bursts of delinquency are wholly entertaining."

"You're extremely loquacious," Felix comments.

"Thank you," Rachel replies. "I pride myself on my effusiveness."

Felix chuckles. "You know," he says. "If you weren't dating baby sis here, I would totally ask you out."

"Watch it," Santana growls.

"I'm simply trying to get to know your, uh, paramour, sis," Felix replies

"Maybe later," Rachel says. "When San's not around, you can tell me some embarrassing stories about her growing up."

"Rach…"

Felix grins. "I really like you."

"So how was your day _yesterday_ girls?" Mr. Lopez asks.

"Papa," Santana says.

"It's our job as your family to embarrass you, Santana, dear," Mrs. Lopez adds.

"What was yesterday?" Felix asks.

"Saturday," Santana replies.

"Then why would—"

"Being the very busy individuals we are," Rachel answers. "San and I are forced to schedule time together. Saturdays have therefore been designated as _our_ day."

Felix, grinning, stares at his sister who is concentrating very hard on her food. "I'm not sure if I find that romantic or practical."

"It's both, I think," Rachel says. "And what's wrong with blending the two?"

"One could argue that isn't possible. Since love isn't practical at all," Felix counters.

"But if the individuals involved _are_ pragmatic, or at least one of them is, then the two should more easily intertwined."

"I think it's certainly possible," Felix allows. "But eventually the emotional will over rule reason."

"The folly of youth, perhaps," Rachel replies. "However, I believe that it is possible. If one knows their strengths and weaknesses, they can adjust their behavior and attempt to better incorporate their feelings. Yes there are outside variable to consider, but overall, I do believe it's possible."

"Are you sure you're only seventeen?" Felix asks.

**…**

Felix eventually backs off and lets the elder Lopez's converse with Rachel. Santana, continues to focus on her food. Still, she considers the dinner, mostly a success since she had counted on Felix being more of a tool.

"I really can't figure out how the two of you ended up together," Felix tells Santana as they watch Rachel reverse out of the driveway.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whoa, little sis, calm down," Felix replies. "I just meant, she's not your usual fare."

"Yeah, we're a little different," Santana admits. "But the way we see things, look at things is pretty similar."

"I suppose," Felix says, looking contemplative. "I mean your approaches to romance don't sound similar, but after further contemplation, they do run fairly parallel."

"God," Santana groans. "I just realized how wordy you both are. Now it's totally going to creep me out."

"I'm not really," Felix replies. "Rachel just sort of brought it out. Knowing I could be as verbose as she was, I knew I had to try."

"I suppose I should just be glad the two of you got along," Santana mumbles.

"And that the 'rents seem to like her."

"More than they seem to like me," Santana grouses.

"Considering how they were informed that you were dating someone of the female persuasion, I think it turned out rather well," Felix comments.

"What is it with you people and all this information sharing?" Santana gripes.

**…**

Santana picks Brittany up Monday morning. The blonde bounces out her front door and opens the passenger side door with more enthusiasm necessary for a Monday morning in Santana's opinion.

"How'd dinner go?" Brittany asks. "You didn't call and tell me."

"Yeah, sorry. Felix was there, so I was distracted by his stupid face."

"Oooh, someone else actually met your brother. And your girlfriend at that," Brittany says. "It must be serious."

"Hey it wasn't _my_ idea," Santana protests. "The dick wad just showed up. Surprised the hell out of me."

"What'd your parents think?"

"They seemed pretty amused by it," Santana admits. "After Rach and Felix bonded over using ten dollar words, my parents were practically gushing over her. I think they like her better than they like me."

"They're just not used to a teenager with manners in the house," Brittany replies. "I know you hate the whole parental involvement, but it could have gone badly considering you didn't tell them Rachel was a girl."

"Are you kidding? After Puckerman, Rachel is like manna from heaven."

"Yeah. True."

**…**

"Yo Berry," Puck greets when he finds Rachel at her locker. "You don't answer a guy's text?"

"Not when it comes in when I'm already sleeping, Noah," Rachel replies, shutting her locker.

"Sorry, but I wanted to know how dinner went."

"Why?"

"I've met her parents," Puck answers. "And I know what they think of me. So I'm just curious what they think of you."

"Did they catch you and San in bed together?" Rachel asks. "Because _that_ could certainly color their opinion of you."

"_No_," Puck replies, sullen. "It was in the principal's office."

"Oh much better, bro."

"Whatever," Puck mumbles. "I suppose they still love you."

"Well, they somewhat already did."

"The next time I need to get my mom off my back about my dating habits, you're definitely having dinner at my house," Puck says. "A polite Jewish girl, my mom would flip out and probably buy me a car."

"You already have a truck," Rachel points out.

"You know what I mean."

Rachel has no response to this. So she decides to change the subject. "I met Santana's brother," Rachel offers.

"Seriously? I thought that guy was a myth."

"Don't be ridiculous, Noah," Rachel replies.

"Well, I'd never met him. Q hasn't. _Maybe_ Britt has."

"Yes, well, he is apparently real," Rachel says. "And we got along famously."

"I bet you did," Puck smirks. "Lopez must've flipped."

"No, I don't think she was particularly pleased with how well we hit it off. Hopefully she's not too annoyed with me."

Puck cocks his head slightly examining Rachel's outfit as they walk. "She might be, but I think she'll forget because she's distracted by your skirt. Or lack there of."

"_Noah_." Rachel smacks him on the arm.

"Can't help it, Berry," Puck replies. "That is completely and utterly indecent. I _definitely_ approve."

"Yes, well that's what I was going for."

"Excellent."

**…**

It's lunch time and the table is oddly quiet. Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie are cautiously eating while trying not to stare at Brittany and Santana seated next to them. They know they should be used to this sort of thing because it isn't exactly new. However, the lack of Rachel's presence is. Especially in relation to the two Cheerios because while Brittany will occasionally sit with them, Santana rarely does without Rachel being in attendance as well.

There's speculation about where Rachel currently is, but despite being super curious, Kurt refuses to ask Santana, which Tina doesn't understand. Yeah, the Cheerio is still a major bitch, she's mellowed a bit since dating Rachel and is almost pleasant, for Santana, to her fellow glee clubbers.

Finally Tina loses patience with Kurt and turns to her right. "Where's Rachel?"

Santana just glowers at them.

"She's helping the theater kids," Brittany supplies.

"Really?" Mercedes asks. "Again?"

"That freshman, Melissa-"

"Marisa," Santana corrects.

"Right. She asked Rachel for a one on one session to work on something. So that's where Rach is."

With that question answered, everyone returns to their lunches. However, Kurt's mind is analyzing the situation. Santana looks beyond pissed, but is apparently doing nothing to stop the one on one session. Though it looks like she'd really like to. It makes Kurt wonder if there's something more going on.

He has vague memories of whom Brittany's talking about. He remembers a little blonde freshman trailing after Rachel with stars in her eyes the first few months of the year. He and Mercedes had chalked it up to part of the bizarre universe they felt like they'd fallen into. It was obvious that the girl had a crush on Rachel. Kurt blames the knife throwing; that seems to have gotten everyone interested for a bit.

The way that Santana is acting makes Kurt wonder if maybe Rachel is doing more than coaching Marisa. After all, Brittany did say Rachel could kiss whomever she wanted.

Looking over at Mercedes, he can see she's having similar thoughts. He wishes they could come up with a way to test the theory. Yeah, they already have half serious/half joking confirmation from Rachel, but with this new incarnation of Rachel Berry, it's difficult to know what to take seriously.

There will definitely have to be a brainstorming session later.

**…**

Finn can admit he feels guilty about what he's planning. But he also knows he's not the smartest guy around, so when he comes up with a plan, he has to jump on it. The fact that he was able to come up with one at all is rather surprising to him. He's not really the planning type. He always left that to the people around him, Quinn, Rachel, even Puck. He can lead people, sure, but schemes really aren't his thing.

He really did try to let it go. He knows Kurt and Mercedes will eventually figure it out. As seasoned gossips, they're good at that. But Finn isn't all that patient. Besides, there's no guarantee that when they do figure it out, that Finn will manage to overhear. He figures the only reason he's heard as much as he has is that they've been talking about it so much.

So while the test he's set up isn't all that great for Rachel, it's the only thing he can think to do. And that's how he's able to barely ignore the guilt he's swimming in.

**…**

Monday evening when Santana arrives home, she goes to the kitchen, looking for something to snack on.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Lopez says entering the kitchen.

"Hey, mom."

"How's Rachel?"

"She's fine," Santana replies. "She said to tell you hello."

"Such a sweetheart," Mrs. Lopez says. "I'm really glad you finally introduced her to us."

"Uh, yeah, great."

"I suppose she's the reason for your improved grades and drop in delinquency."

"Yeah," Santana grumbles. "She always says homework first."

"And she really seems to care about you," Mrs. Lopez continues.

"Yeah, well she's pretty important to me too."

"Good," Mrs. Lopez replies. "A girl like that deserves to be treated right. You better be treating her properly."

"I _am_, mom."

"Good, because I'd like it if she's around for a long time."

"We're dating aren't we?" Santana asks. "That's a big deal for me."

"I know, dear. And I'm so proud of you for that. I just don't want you to fuck it up."

Santana's so thrown by her mom's use of the word fuck, she almost missing the implication. "Wait. Why would it be my fault?"

Mrs. Lopez just looks at her daughter.

"Yeah, fine. It probably will be, but I promise I have no intentions of screwing up. Okay?"

"Good. Because I'd really like to see Rachel over her for Sunday dinner on a regular basis."

Santana groans. "_Mom_."

"_Santana_."

"Fine," Santana says finally. "As long as it's not _every_ Sunday."

"Lovely," Mrs. Lopez replies. "There's one thing I was curious about though, dear."

"Yes, mom?"

"Have you met her parents?"

"Uh, yeah, once or twice."

"Once or twice? You're over there every weekend."

"They're not around much," Santana answers. "Like Rach says they're hard core workaholics."

"Oh. That's a shame."

"Rachel turned out just fine," Santana counters.

"I'm not saying she didn't, dear," Mrs. Lopez replies. "I just think parents should be around."

"Oh."

"What do her folks do?"

"Uh… her dad is a lawyer, I think. And, uh…"

"What?"

"… her daddy is in sales I think. He travels a lot. That's why _he's_ not around too much."

"So she has two dads?"

Santana nods.

"And no mother?"

"Just a surrogate."

"Why would I care about that dear?"

"I don't know."

"Whoever her parents are, helped shaped her into the wonderful young lady she is. And you should know I have no real issues with homosexuality."

"Yeah."

"Well, when she does eventually tell them, we'll have to have them over for dinner."

"Goody."

"I don't need your sarcasm, dear."

"Sorry," Santana grumbles.

**…**

Tuesday morning, Rachel is just about to her locker when she's stopped by Kenny Marrison. The only reason she knows who he is, is because two weeks ago, Puck had mentioned that the freshman had been pushing to be on the varsity team instead of JV. Apparently the kid had been following Coach around, being persistently annoying.

Rachel's about to ask him what he wants when he holds up the largest slushie cup ever and tosses its blue contents in her face.

It's been a long time since she's been hit with one and the cold is a shock. Thankfully, on instinct, she'd closed her eyes, so after wiping some away she's able to open her eyes without too much sting.

Kenny is grinning like a maniac and the hallway is deadly silent for exactly three seconds before Santana comes barreling down the hall, followed closely by Puck. Santana delivers a fierce right hook that takes him down. And then Puck's there, picking him up as a target for Santana.

What's disturbing about the whole thing is how quiet it is. Normally if there's violence, people are cheering and egging the fighters on. Apparently, because this is simply some follow through to threats, everyone simply watches in awe and fear.

Brittany and surprisingly, Quinn, is at Rachel's side at this point. Flanking her, they watch as Kenny gets his ass kicked before being dropped onto the floor. Brittany, then goes to Rachel's locker, opens it and pulls out a change of clothes.

"You still have extra clothes in your locker?" Quinn asks.

"One never knows what's going to happen throughout the day," Rachel replies. "Especially in this place."

"Well that's certainly true."

Carrying the clothes, Brittany leads Rachel to the girls' bathroom with Quinn trailing behind.

Meanwhile, people are starting to disperse as Santana and Puck try to figure out from the crowd why the freshman did what he did.

Puck also has a couple of the other JV footballers help the freshman to the nurse's office. They still don't have a nurse, but there's placing for him to lie down. Maybe none of the teachers will even notice because there wasn't the usual boisterous encouragements there usually are during a fight.

"You're an idiot," Santana tells him. "Eventually a teacher is going to hear someone talking about it."

"Depends on the teacher," Puck counters.

"Well, yeah," Santana admits. "But when they find out we were defending Rachel Berry, they'll probably expel us and give that freshman a fucking trophy or something."

"Like they'd give out trophies," Puck scoffs.

**…**

In the bathroom, Brittany helps Rachel wipe the slushie off her face and out of her hair while Quinn stands by awkwardly guarding the door and holding Rachel's spare change of clothes.

"So, uh, what do you think brought this on?" Quinn asks, unable to just stand in silence.

"He's a big jerk weasel," Brittany replies.

"I'm sure it was some sort of idiotic jock dare," Rachel replies.

"But to go against Santana," Quinn says. "I mean, she gave Greg Sanderson a broken leg and he had to have his jaw wired."

"Actually that was me," Brittany supplies.

Quinn gapes at her. "What?"

Brittany nods as she takes the clothing out of Quinn's hands and gives it to Rachel, who, smiling, goes into a stall to change.

"But I thought-I mean, everyone did, really-but it was you?" Quinn stutters.

Brittany nods again.

"I, um, I don't know what to say-or think about that."

"I thought it was rather sweet," Rachel says, exiting the stall, clothes changed. "Though, I don't normally condone violence, I have to admit having it done on one's behalf can alter one's stance on the matter. I confess it appeals to the romantic in me."

"So Santana didn't do it?" Quinn asks.

"Well, she was there," Brittany admits. "But more as a look out and to reinforce her message."

"Yes, they're like the Cheerio protect Rachel Berry duo or something more clever sounding," Rachel says, brushing her hair at the sink.

"Can we be the Cheerio Avengers?" Brittany asks.

"If you want, Britt."

"Awesome."

**…**

Principal Figgins leans back in his desk chair as he warily watches Sue Sylvester rant and pace in front of him. Per usual the woman didn't have an appointment or wait for his secretary to usher her in. Watching her, he has to wonder if she has a mode other than smug satisfaction or ridiculous, yet still seems to be reasonable indignation. Because he's not sure he's seen her any other way.

"…has to be done. You need to grow a pair and punish the perpetrator."

"Fine," Figgins says. "He has detention."

"Not good enough," Sue replies. "Assault with malicious intent deserves five days suspension."

"Sue, you can't be serious."

"Deadly."

"An entire week is too much for something that used to happen on a daily basis."

"You just said the wrong thing."

Figgins groans to himself. "Two days suspension is the best I can do."

"Considering your track record, I suppose I'll have to accept that," Sue replies. "I'll go tell the little cretin."

"Sue, wait," Figgins calls out.

Turning, Sue eyes him. "Yes?"

"What about the ones who fought him?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sue. Immediately after the incident, a football player and a Cheerio attacked that boy. I don't think I need to guess who."

"You have no proof."

"I have a school full of witness," Figgins protests.

"Really? Where? I didn't see any outside your office."

"You really expect me to believe _no one_ saw someone getting pulverized? Before the first bell rang?"

"Maybe they were all busy having premarital sex and doing meth."

"I hope not," Figgins replies. "That's terribly unsanitary and we don't have the janitorial support to clean it all."

"Excellent," Sue says. "Now that that's settled, I have students to terrorize."

"Sue, I'm serious, the perpetrators need to be punished as well."

"Here's what I'm going to do for you," Sue says, placing her palms on Figgins' desk and leaning in. "I'll find out who it was and take care of it myself."

"Sue, no, absolutely not," Figgins replies. "Because you'll either tell them not to do it in front of witnesses and let them go or duct tape them to a wall in your office and occasionally throw rotten eggs at them."

"As if I would use the same punishment twice," Sue scoffs. "I was actually thinking of suspending them slightly in the air by their wrists, while their feet and shins are immersed in a mixture of honey and kalamata olive pits."

"Sue, we've talked about your methods of punishment before," Figgins says. "They leave too many visible marks behind. So the answer is no."

"You'll see it my way all too soon," Sue replies before spinning on her heel and exiting the office.

**…**

It's quiet in the nurse's office. Kenny tries not to feel too unsettled since it was eerily quiet when he was getting his ass kicked too. As soon as he feels up to it, he's going home. As far as he knows, no one's called his parents. Hopefully he can go home, skip tomorrow and pretend that none of this ever happened.

"Hey. Hey. Marrrison."

Kenny's shaken out of his light doze by the shaking of his shoulder. The whispered voice is too low to identify. He rolls over slightly to look over his shoulder and is fearful to see Puck looming over him.

"Oh god, please don't hit me anymore," Kenny moans. "I won't do it again. I swear. I won't even go near her or think about her."

"Relax kid," Puck says. "I just have a couple questions."

"All right," Kenny agrees cautiously.

"You're not new around here," Puck starts. "You know there's no slushies allowed anymore. Why'd you do it?"

"I didn't, uh, I mean that I, um, well, the thing is-"

"Tell me or I _will_ hurt you again."

"He asks me to. I wasn't sure, but he promised me he'd help me get onto to Varsity. I had to. I didn't think it was that big of deal."

"Yeah? You ever been slushied before kid?"

Kenny shakes his head.

"It's a big deal. It totally sucks," Puck says.

"I, uh-"

"Save it," Puck tells him. "So who was it?"

"Just some upperclassman."

"It's gotta be someone with clout," Puck says. "Otherwise he wouldn't be able to convince Coach of anything."

"Don't all you guys have, uh, clout?"

"Damnit, tell me who it was," Puck growls. "Or I what you're feeling now will be miniscule in comparison." He leans in closer and grabs Kenny by the front of his shirt.

"Oh god, it was Hudson!" Kenny wails. "He came to me yesterday and asked me to. Said it wasn't a big deal and that I'd be on Varsity next year for sure. I believed him. I mean, he's the quarterback, right?"

"Fucking _Finn_ asked you to?"

"Yeah, yeah, he did," Kenny continues. "I thought it was weird cause I thought him and that Rachel girl were friends. I mean, you guys are in glee together or whatever, right?"

"If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not. I swear. I swear on my dead grandmother."

"I'm going to choose to believe you because only a complete and utter dick would swear on a dead grandmother who isn't dead."

"I would never."

"Fine," Puck huffs. "I see you around Berry again, it better be because you're apologizing. Otherwise, stay clear of her. Got it?"

"Yeah. Definitely. Got it."

"Better watch your back, Marrison," Puck says, backing out of the room. "Bad things happen to people who go after my bro like that."

And then he's gone, leaving Kenny alone to tremble in wait.

**…**

At lunch, everyone is talking about Kenny's actions, Santana's and Puck's reaction and the fact that Figgins actually punished him.

Rachel is conspicuously missing from the glee table. But looking around, Kurt doesn't see Santana either, so he concludes they're together. He shudders to think what they're doing, despite doing his best not to let his thoughts go down that route.

"I still can't figure out why he did it," Tina says. "I mean, it's not like he has anything against Rachel."

"Yeah," Artie chimes in. "I don't think they've even interacted like ever."

"Maybe it was a dare or an initiation," Mercedes suggests.

"An initiation? This far into the year?" Kurt questions.

Mercedes shrugs. "Who understands how those jock brains work?"

"You're giving them too much credit," Kurt replies.

"What?"

"Assuming they have functioning brains," Kurt answers. "I mean, did you see what Santana did to him? Why would anyone go after Rachel? Especially after what happened last time?"

No one has an answer for that.

"Do you think Puck or Santana are going to be suspended too?" Artie asks.

"I'm sure Rachel will intervene on their behalf if it comes up," Tina says.

"Plus Coach Sylvester," Kurt adds.

"Oooh," Artie says. "Figgins wouldn't stand a chance."

**…**

The guilt Finn felt about setting up a slushie facial for Rachel is overshadowed by his almost awe of the reaction it caused.

The speed that Puck and Santana reacted with blew him away. He didn't see either of them anywhere near Rachel and yet they'd been there in like five seconds. If he didn't know better, he'd think the two had some sort of slushie throwing tracker system hooked up.

And Santana had been particularly brutal. He knew she could be cruel verbally and though he's never seen it, word is that she gives harsh poundings when she loses her temper. Finn remember freshman year when some senior called Brittany a retard. He limped the rest of the year.

What really surprised him though was the fact that Quinn had stood protectively next to Rachel and had apparently gone with her into the bathroom to help clean up. He's having trouble picturing it. It's such a contrast to the Quinn who not that long ago was calling Rachel "Man Hands" and threatening her existence.

Finn's really starting to believe Rachel has some sort of weird super power. He remembers Puck telling him about some weird adventures in the sewers and wonders if Rachel fell into a vat of nuclear waste. Except what exactly would her power be? Some sort of weird hypnotic beckoning power? It's the only explanation for the apparent 180 Quinn's taken on her Rachel Berry stance, as well as the massive protective streak Santana and Puck seem to have.

**…**

That afternoon, glee is somewhat subdued. Rachel notices that she's getting a lot of odd looks, which she doesn't understand. It's not like _she_ was the one that pulverized some poor freshman. Sure it was done _for_ her, but still.

Santana is sitting next to her with her arms crossed looking particularly surly. She is flanked by Noah on her other side looking just as threatening as well as pissed. Brittany and Quinn are behind her looking less intimidating, but still just as stern. Well, as stern as Brittany can manage to look, which essentially means she's not smiling.

"What's up with this silence guys?" Mr. Schue asks, standing in front of them. "You guys are acting like something terrible happened today."

Everyone, sans Rachel, stares at him. A few people's jaws have even dropped. Rachel wonders how any of them can be surprised at Mr. Schue's reaction.

Kurt raises his hand and speaks. "Didn't you hear about what happened this morning?"

Mr. Schue nods. "Of course I did, Kurt. But I don't see what the big deal is. It's not like Rachel hasn't been slushied before. I know how much it sucks, but she still had a change of clothes, so it's no problem, right?" Mr. Schue seems to pause a moment. "Though I am confused why Figgins suspended Kenny. I know it's been a while since someone's been slushied, but suspension seems rather harsh."

Santana jumps out of her chair. "You can't be serious!"

"Santana," Mr. Schue says. "Being outraged seems a bit hypocritical, doesn't it? As a prime slushie thrower, you can't be one to point fingers."

"I never threw slushies," Santana protests. "I preferred the cruel, verbal assaults actually."

"It's true, she did," Brittany pipes up.

"Nonetheless," Mr. Schue says. "I think the reaction to the whole thing quickly blew out of portion. I saw the kid before he was escorted home. He looked like he'd been hit by a car."

"Yeah, well, when I make a decree, I like it to be followed," Santana replies.

"Still, I don't really approve of avengement like that," Mr. Schue continues. "I really thought Rachel had helped you work past that. I have half a mind to turn you into Figgins."

"Half a mind is right," Brittany mumbles.

"You wouldn't," Puck says, standing as well.

"It's my job as an educator to protect you guys from your immature decisions and help you grow as individuals."

"That's a crock of shit, Mr. Schue," Santana says. "If that was really true, you would have done something about the slushie attacks."

"That's different."

"How?" Kurt pipes up.

"Well, it's just a slushie to the face. I know it's a harsh cold surprise, but it's certainly not akin to putting someone in the nurse's office."

"It's worse," Mercedes says.

"Yeah," Tina adds. "Fearing it on a daily basis is way worse than getting your ass kicked just once."

"Yeah, Mr. Schue," Artie says. "It's a real bitch to try and get cleaned up. Especially for me."

"Yes, well, you're special circumstances, Artie, I can admit that," Mr. Schue replies. "But if it was really a big deal, why didn't any of you try to stop it?"

No one says anything. They're all staring at Mr. Schue in shock. Except for Rachel, who still isn't surprised. She's nonchalantly jotting things down in her notebook.

Glancing over and seeing her reaction causes Santana to elbow her.

"Yes?" Rachel drawls.

"What are you doing?"

"When something surprising happens, I'll react accordingly. However, until then, I have things to work on. Especially since it doesn't seem like we'll be actually singing anytime soon."

Now everyone, including Mr. Schue, is staring at Rachel.

"What does that mean, exactly Rachel?" Mr. Schue asks.

"I believe my last statement is quite clear. I find none of this conversation a shock, therefore I am not reacting to it."

"So you understand where I'm coming from then?" Mr. Schue asks. It's obvious he seems relieved by this.

"No, not exactly, Mr. Schue," Rachel replies. "I'm simply saying that nothing that has been said so far surprises me. Though I do admit to being slightly baffled by everyone else's reaction to your statements."

"Why is that, Rachel?"

"It's not like you haven't said something similar before."

Mr. Schue grimaces.

"Rach you can't be serious," Noah says.

"I am," Rachel nods. "Besides, it's not like he ever stood up for us last year. I mean, he let Quinn get slushied, _knowing_she was pregnant. You don't slushie a pregnant girl. It's not right."

"Rachel…" Mr. Schuester starts.

"She's right," Quinn pipes up. "As if I didn't have enough problems last year without having to worry about being slushied."

Everyone's eyes are now focused on Mr. Schuester.

"You guys know I don't have the power to stop that sort of thing."

"But you didn't even try," Artie points out.

"I spent all of last year fighting for _glee_. For you guys," Mr. Schuester protests. "I could barely get Figgins to listen to me about that, much less anything else."

"And for yourself," Mercedes says.

"Yeah, I enjoy glee as much as you do," Mr. Schuester admits. "And I know how it helped me when I was here. I want you guys to have an outlet like that too."

"An outlet that got us slushied all the time," Kurt says.

"I don't see why this matters anymore, since for the most part the slushies have stopped," Mr. Schuester argues.

"Thanks to _Santana_ of all people," Tina says. "No offense."

"None taken," Santana says.

"You say that like she did it for unselfish reasons," Mr. Schuester says.

"How is doing it to protect her girlfriend selfish?" Brittany asks.

"It's not," Puck says.

"It should have happened a long time ago," Quinn adds.

"You used to be one of the worse perpetrators, Quinn," Mr. Schuester argues.

"Thank you for pointing that out, Mr. Schue," Quinn replies. "I really appreciate at that. Are you saying I can't grow as a person?"

"Of course I'm not saying that, Quinn," Mr. Schuester replies. "However your apparent attitude change is a bit disconcerting."

"Why?"

"Well, wasn't it just a few weeks ago that you were telling me what a horrible influence Rachel is on Santana?"

"Maybe," Quinn allows. "But once again, am I not allowed to change?"

"Well, certainly, but-"

"I'm finding this whole conversation very unsettling," Rachel announces. "I think it'd be best to simply table this discussion indefinitely. And perhaps cancel practice this afternoon because I have a feeling, no one's in the right frame of mind."

Mr. Schuester looks relieved.

"However," Rachel continues. "I'm going to trust that _no one_ is going to mention who put Kenny in the Nurse's office to Figgins."

"Rachel…"

"I'm serious, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "I just don't think it would be a good idea. In fact, I think it's a _really_ bad idea. Don't you, Britt?"

"I do, Rach," Brittany chirps.

"Rachel, I'm your teacher, you can't threaten me," Mr. Schuester says.

"I wasn't threatening _anyone_, Mr. Schue," Rachel replies. "I was simply stating my feelings on the matter. Wouldn't you guys agree?"

"Oh yeah," Santana says.

"Sounds like it to me," Tina adds.

"Yeah, I didn't hear any threats," Mike says.

"Excellent, well if you all would excuse me, I'm going to get a jump on my homework," Rachel says, standing.

Everyone watches her stroll out with an air of nonchalance. After the door closes behind her, Brittany stands and grabs Quinn, before pushing Santana out the door after her. This spurs everyone else to stand and begin gathering their things.

"I'll see you guys Thursday then, I guess," Mr. Schuester says.

Everyone ignores them as they exit the choir room.

**…**

"Well I guess we have our answer," Kurt says as they walk out.

"Yeah, we do," Mercedes agrees. "I don't know how I feel about it, though."

"It is what it is."

"You seem rather indifferent," Mercedes points out.

"I guess. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet."

"The fact that Figgins suspended him makes me think Rachel really controls everyone with any power at McKinley."

"I know," Kurt agrees. "I can't figure that part out yet. I didn't think Figgins knew Rachel outside of her position in glee. Certainly not enough to punish someone who went after her. _That_ is definitely a change."

"It's definitely a mystery."

"Either way, we definitely have to stay on her good side," Kurt says.

"We just stay out of the way and we'll be fine," Mercedes says.

**…**

Puck grabs Mike before he exits. "Hey, man, I need your help. You mind?"

"Sure. Whadda need?"

"Follow my lead?"

Mike nods, baffled.

"Finn, dude, wait up a sec," Puck calls out, motioning Mike to follow him.

Finn stops and turns. "Yeah?"

"Can we talk a minute?"

"Sure."

"Cool." Puck grabs Finn and drags him into the nearest bathroom. Mike trails after looking bemused. When all three are inside, Puck locks the door. "Privacy," he says at Finn's questioning look.

"Right."

"Listen," Puck starts. "I know we were just talking about it, but I wanted to ask you something without too many other people around."

"Okay."

"Did you tell Marrison that you'd get him onto Varsity if he slushied Rachel?"

Mike gasps.

"What? No way."

"Then why did he say you did?" Puck asks.

"I dunno," Finn answers. "Cause he's a liar?"

"You really he'd lie under threat of severe pain?" Puck questions. "He doesn't seem to have the balls for that."

"Well, people can surprise you," Finn offers.

"That's for damn sure," Mike mutters.

Finn looks over Puck's shoulder, having momentarily forgot Mike was there.

"I don't think he was lying," Puck says.

"Why would I want Rachel to be slushied?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Puck asks. "Maybe you're still mad about her dumping you. Maybe you're trying to get back at Santana by making Rachel think Santana isn't protecting her. Maybe you're just a dick. I have no idea, man. I feel like I hardly know you anymore."

"Well, maybe you don't, dude," Finn replies. "It's not like we hang out anymore. You're always with _Rachel_."

"Hey, I said you could hang too, but you always refused. So I stopped asking."

"Well, yeah," Finn replies. "You guys always made me feel like the third wheel or whatever. And you're not even dating."

"I don't know you anymore, man."

"Same here, dude."

"Is that why he didn't speak up about anything earlier?" Mike asks.

"Maybe."

"Oh god," Finn groans. "You're not going to tell Rachel, are you? Or worse, Santana?"

"I should," Puck answers. "You'd deserve it."

"C'mon man."

"Though, I had another thought, actually."

"Yeah? What's that?" Finn asks.

Puck punches Finn hard in the jaw, making him stumble backwards.

"What the hell man?" Finn wipes some blood from his lip.

"Mike, man," Puck says. "A little help?"

Finn doesn't expect Mike to, but he does in fact join Puck on the other side of Finn, still reeling slightly from the punch. They each grab a shoulder and drag him towards a stall. When they're inside, they grab Finn's legs as well. It's awkward because Finn's so tall, but they're just barely able to lift him.

"Shit, no way, guys, come on. Not cool."

Ignoring him, they're slowly able to put his head in the toilet. Puck nods at Mike who flushes the toilet. There's gurgling and sputtering, but they don't let him up. Once the toilet's done flushing, Puck nods to Mike who flushes it again. This time they only hear whimpering and sputtering. They lift him up slightly so he can breathe.

"What the fuck-"

Puck nods at Mike and they lower him again and Mike flushes the toilet again. This time once it's done, they lower his legs and let him fall, causing Finn to bump his head against the seat.

"Lopez would've done worse," Puck tells him. He then kicks him in the stomach and leaves.

Mike checks to make sure Finn won't drown and follows Puck out of the bathroom.

**…**

Driving home, Will wonders how Rachel Berry is able to intimidate him like that. At five foot nothing, she's not a particularly threatening figure and yet he's almost frightened of her. He wonders if it's the knowledge that she has Noah Puckerman, Santana Lopez and maybe even Quinn Fabray in her corner. If the four of them put their heads together, they could probably take over Lima, if not the entire state of Ohio.

He does believe there should be consequences for Santana and Puck, though he's reluctant to punish _any_ of his glee kids, even Puck. He's having more and more difficulty being the proper educator he wants to be. He wonders if it's the effects of her personal life being in shambles or simply a reaction to the absurdity McKinley always seems immersed in.

For now, he won't say anything. Though not because of anything Rachel said or implied. At least that's what he tells himself.

**…**

Wednesday, morning the minute she steps inside McKinley, Rachel is ushered into Figgins' office.

"Good morning Ms. Berry."

"Morning Principal Figgins."

"I suppose you know why I asked you to stop by," Figgins begins.

"Actually, I have no idea," Rachel replies.

"Please don't play stupid with me, Ms. Berry."

"Sir, I think it would be easier if you just told me what this is all about."

"Fine," Figgins says. "Yesterday you were slushied by a young man, is that correct?"

"It is," Rachel nods.

"And I'm sure you heard he was suspended."

"I did," Rachel nods again. "I must say I was rather surprised by that."

"Yes, well, that was Coach Sylvester's influence more than anything else."

"I see."

"However, seeing as I assisted you, I was hoping you could assist me," Figgins continues.

"Sir, I still have no idea who the prankster is."

"Actually I was referring to who beat up Mr. Marrison."

"Oh," Rachel says.

"Exactly."

"I can't really help you with that either, sir," Rachel replies. "I was in the bathroom cleaning up. Slushie facials are messy things."

"I'm sure they are," Figgins agrees. "But you must have seen or heard something."

"Rumors, perhaps, but nothing concrete."

"You really expect me to believe that, Ms. Berry?" Figgins asks.

"I'm not expecting anything, Principal Figgins," Rachel replies. "I'm simply answering your questions."

"I know you have to be lying this time," Figgins tells her.

Rachel's eyes narrow slightly. "Prove it."

"Excuse me?"

"Seeing as I have no information to give you, sir, do you mind if I go to my locker now? I have books to get before first period begins."

"We're not done yet, young lady."

"I don't see how we can have more to discuss," Rachel replies. "You're not going to get the information from me that you're seeking, so continuing this meeting is really just a waste of our time. I'm sure being a principal is a very time consuming job, so I'd hate to stop you from doing that."

"You're bordering on rudeness, Ms. Berry," Figgins tells her.

"That was never my intention, sir," Rachel replies. "I'm simply trying to be efficient with our time."

Figgins eyes Rachel who stares back, trying to seem innocent and unconcerned.

After a minute, Figgins sighs. "Fine. You may go."

Rachel nods, stands and flounces out of the office.

**…**

Rachel is pulled out of third period by Coach Sylvester's two freshmen messengers. She follows them down the hall as they whisper and occasionally throw a look over their shoulder which causes them both to giggle.

"Not to be rude," Rachel says as they're standing in front of Coach Sylvester's office. "But I don't think I know your names."

"My name's Missy," the blonde says.

"And I'm Wendy," the redhead pipes up.

Rachel nods. "Okay."

"Coach said you should just go in," Missy says.

They part so Rachel can walk in between them. Just as she opening the door, she feels two hands on her ass. She spins around to confront them, but they're already halfway down the hallway, giggling hysterically. Shaking her head, Rachel enters Coach Sylvester's office.

"Have a seat, Berry," Coach says.

Rachel does.

"I'm sure you know why you're here."

"Sort of," Rachel replies. "I'm assuming it has something to do with yesterday's antics."

"It does indeed."

"Figgins said you _persuaded_ him to punish Kenny," Rachel says.

"Is that the moron's name?" Coach asks. "Well, I suppose you could say that."

"I appreciate it."

"Don't get too haughty, Berry. It was just as much for me as it was for you."

"To exude more power over him, I assume," Rachel says.

"I'm glad you understand."

"Nonetheless," Rachel continues. "I appreciate it anyway. Things done that benefit me, even laterally are appreciated."

"Because you're smart enough to be grateful when the actions of others have positive side consequences for you," Coach Sylvester replies.

"Thank you Coach."

"I must say, though, I'm surprised how quickly Lopez and Puckerman jumped in there. Record breaking reaction time."

"I was impressed as well," Rachel admits. "Especially since I'm fairly certain they were nowhere near by."

"You'll do great things one day, Berry," Coach says. "You have more influence than you may think."

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "Or I just inspire loyalty and a protective instinct."

"Well my two messengers seem to be taken with you," Coach continues. "I've been told anytime I need your presence, they're willing to hunt you down."

"I can imagine," Rachel replies, wryly, thinking back to their hands squeezing her ass. "They're quite forward."

"I think it's the skirts," Coach Sylvester says.

"What about Quinn?"

"Q is the exception that proves the rule."

"Perhaps."

**…**

All day when Rachel walks down the halls Wednesday, she can feel the difference. Enough of her classmates saw Santana's reaction to the slushie and no one wants to risk the Cheerio's ire. Even though they'd seen the supposed aftermath of Santana's fury, it hadn't fully sunk in like actually seeing it apparently has.

Not that Rachel feels she needs protecting. She has her own ways of fighting back. She is, however, grateful that no more slushie facials will come her way. Hopefully. And getting a little more respect walking down the halls is giving her a nice little ego boost.

Still, she feels odd. The halls part for her and people are careful not to touch her. It beats getting shoved into lockers. Still, she's glad when she runs into Brittany and Tina, so she can walk down the hall without feeling like a leaper. Tina chats about the movie she saw the night before and Brittany is content to drape herself over Rachel and occasionally tease Tina. It's, Rachel supposes, a better ending to getting slushied than she ever experienced before. However, she curious about how this is going to affect things in the long run; she suppose only time will tell.


	21. A Slippery Slope

**Title:** A Slippery Slope  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Will, New Directions, Sue, Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Marisa Lawson, Figgins  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Reactions and consequences to Rachel being slushied.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~13, 050  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really, though reading the previous story would probably help.  
><strong>AN:** Technically starts before the end of Assume Crash Positions.  
><strong><br>**

"Can you believe Mr. Schue?" Santana says, pacing in Rachel's room.

Quinn gave Brittany a ride home, leaving Santana to head over to Rachel's. Now that the relationship is out in the open, Santana has permission to spend the evenings after glee at Rachel's. Santana thinks her mom feels bad about Rachel being home alone so much. Santana has similar feelings, so she's glad it's expected that she be at Rachel's now.

"As I said before," Rachel replies, not looking up from her homework. "I'm not surprised."

"I know you and Mr. Schue don't really get along, but still."

"This is the man who tried to trick me into confessing to being the prankster," Rachel reminds Santana.

"Yeah, I remember. And I know I don't have the right, but the fact that he blew off that slushie like that really pisses me off."

"I noticed," Rachel replies wryly.

"Why aren't you more pissed off?"

"I find it better to channel that anger elsewhere. Besides, it's a futile exercise. Being mad at Mr. Schue is like being mad at the puppy that just peed on the carpet."

"Are you calling Mr. Schue a dog?"

"It's a simile," Rachel replies.

"So that's a yes."

"_Santana_."

"He deserves worse," Santana mumbles.

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "But he's still our teacher and so we're supposed to treat him with respect."

"That's a two way street."

"We'll get there."

"Though, you threatening him was choice," Santana smirks.

"As I said before, I wasn't making a threat," Rachel says. "I was simply informing the occupants of the room that something which negatively affects my girlfriend and my bro who were defending my honor isn't a good thing. People will interpret things how they wish."

"C'mon. Just say it."

They stare at each other for a moment.

"Fine," Rachel huffs. "Yes, that was me threatening people on your behalf."

"Awww, thanks, babe."

"The fact that Mr. Schue would turn you guys in really gets to me," Rachel admits. "It's one thing for him to be like that with me. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't stand for it," Santana tells her.

"What would you like me to do?"

"I don't know? Do another slushie pool prank and push him in? He deserves it," Santana growls.

"Easy tiger," Rachel replies. "I'm willing to admit it would be gratifying to witness, but I just don't think I can. Every time I do something similar to Mr. Schue, I always feel guilty afterwards."

Santana looks confused. "How many times have you pranked Schue?"

"Um, a few times."

"Huh," Santana replies. "I'm starting to think you don't share enough."

**…**

Santana's still stewing over Mr. Schue's brush off when she gets home that night. Someone needs to teach him a lesson. Santana had hoped that maybe Rachel would take up that mantle, but apparently not. So being the doting girlfriend she is, it seems that it's up to Santana.

Knowing Rachel is right, though she'd never tell her, Santana begins planning. Feeling some vengeful gleefulness, she starts a list in her Spanish notebook.

The first thing Santana knows for sure is that she's slushieing Mr. Schue to see how he likes it. And it's going to happen every day for at least a week, if not more, so he can understand how it feels.

Santana knows she has no idea how it feels either, but she's managed to pry the information out of Rachel. It took some doing; her girlfriend initially wasn't willing to share. Apparently, the key to her forgiving nature lay partly in letting the past stay in the past, making her less willing to talk about slushies.

Looking over the basic plans she's made, Santana realizes she'll need help. She'll have to ask Britt to help. Maybe Quinn will too. She seemed pretty annoyed with Mr. Schue as they were walking to the parking lot.

Tomorrow she'll talk to her best friends and start gathering the necessary provisions. Santana grins to herself; this is going to be fun.

**…**

Wednesday morning, Santana practically bounces into McKinley, though she'd never admit it out loud. While getting ready earlier, Santana remembered that Rachel actually had a slushie cannon she used to torture Stacey Hudson. Borrowing it is step one of getting the materials she needs. She'd texted Rachel who agreed to bring it and surprisingly didn't question why Santana wanted it.

She finds Quinn first, who is predictably at her locker.

"Hey Q."

"Santana."

"I need help with a little project this week. Wanna help?"

"What's wrong with asking Berry?"

"I don't think she'd approve."

Now Quinn's intrigued. "Explain."

Santana looks around, but everyone's staying as far away as possible.

"I wanna show Schuester that slushies are a big deal," Santana says, lowering her voice. "I'm gonna slushie him for like a week at least."

"What? Why?"

"You heard him yesterday," Santana replies. "I want him to know it is a big deal."

"Like you would know," Quinn scoffs.

"Well, not exactly, but I know what it did to Rach," Santana says. "And I hate how flippant he was about her being slushied."

"But you're keeping it from Berry," Quinn ventures.

"Yeah," Santana admits. "She'll think it's hilarious, but then she'll feel guilty-"

"Why?"

"She's too nice for her own good."

"That's for sure."

"And I don't want that, so I'm just going to not mention it to her," Santana says.

"Won't she notice Mr. Schue is getting slushied?" Quinn asks.

"Maybe," Santana admits. "But she won't ask me about it."

"Why?"

"We don't ask questions we don't want the answer to."

"That's… healthy."

Santana shrugs. "It works for now."

**…**

Finn doesn't understand what's happening. He thought for sure Puck would tell Rachel or at the very least, Santana about his role in Rachel being slushied. He was certainly pissed off enough. A triple swirlee seems pretty harsh to him. But when he sees Rachel in the hall Wednesday morning, she just smiles. Later when he passes Santana on his way to lunch, she just ignores him; which isn't unusual.

He's pretty sure Puck didn't tell Rachel because they both know how she'll react. Finn's grateful because Rachel's disappointed face is one that he really hates to cause.

It occurs to Finn that maybe Santana does know and is just bidding her time. He wouldn't put it past her. She's devious like that. He prays it's just Puck sparing the girls' feelings because otherwise, he's screwed.

**…**

Santana doesn't really see Brittany until lunch.

"Where have you been hiding?"

"I've been keeping Rachy company," Brittany answers. "Trying to distract her from everyone's reaction to her."

"What are they doing?"

"They're treating her like a leaper," Brittany says. "I think it's weirding her out."

"Oh. Maybe I should go be the comforting girlfriend," Santana replies, looking around the lunchroom.

"You can't," Brittany tells her. "She's tutoring Melissa."

"Marisa," Santana corrects. "Again?"

Brittany nods.

"That freshman just better keep her hands to herself," Santana mutters.

"She wouldn't dare," Brittany replies.

Catching something in the blonde's tone, Santana stares at Brittany for a moment. "Good to know."

"You were looking for me?

"Yeah," Santana says. "I wanna do a week long slushie marathon on Mr. Schue."

"For Rachel?"

Santana nods.

"But you're not doing it with Rach cause she'll feel guilty?"

Santana nods again, smirking. She should have known Britt would understand.

"Sounds like fun."

**…**

After Cheerios' practice, they all head to Santana's house. Quinn doesn't want to deal with her mom and Santana doesn't want to deal with Britt's little sister, so her house is the only logical choice.

They stop in the kitchen to get something to drink.

"Hi Mrs. Lopez."

"Quinn. It's been a while. It's lovely to see you again."

"You too, Mrs. Lopez."

"No Rachel?"

Quinn looks at her in surprise. Santana just rolls her eyes.

"Not today mom. She has a voice lesson."

"Well she's still coming to dinner Sunday isn't she?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

"Yes, mom, she is," Santana replies, exasperated.

"All right. Nice to see you again, Quinn. Brittany."

They head upstairs to Santana's room

"Your mom really likes Rachy," Brittany says, plopping down on Santana's bed.

"Yeah, I know," Santana replies. "Better than me, I think."

"Duh," Brittany says, smirking.

This earns her a pillow to the face.

Quinn sits at Santana's desk and watches the pillow fight. "It's nice to see you two are still just as ridiculous."

"Whatever Fabray," Santana says. "You're too fucking uptight anyway."

Brittany gets in a good wallop causing Santana to lose her balance and bounce onto the bed.

"I win!" Brittany crows.

**…**

Once Brittany and Santana have settled down, they try to focus at the task at hand.

"I took a page from Rachel's book," Santana says. "And drew up a plan."

"Rachel's book?" Quinn asks.

"Cause she always plans things out before she takes on a big project," Brittany explains.

"Right," Quinn says. "Of course."

"Anyway, I think the first couple should be in his office," Santana continues. "I figure even after the first one or two, he won't think another is coming. Especially if the timing is different each time."

"And how are you going to pull that off?"

"Set a timer," Santana answers.

"How are we going to set all this up?" Quinn asks.

"We'll break in after hours, silly," Brittany answers. "I know how to pick locks."

"Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Anyway, I also have a small cannon we can set up that shoots slushies," Santana continues.

"Why do you have something like that?" Quinn asks.

"Because I just do," Santana answers.

"Okay. Don't get snippy."

"Well, if you would stop interrupting me," Santana says.

"Yeah, well, I have questions. You don't explain things very well," Quinn tells her.

"Maybe you're not paying the proper attention."

"I'm listening just fine, thank you very much," Quinn snarks back.

"How many days are you gonna slushie him, S?" Brittany interrupts.

"I was hoping to start tomorrow and go through at least next Friday."

"Seriously, S?" Quinn asks. "That seems like a lot."

"It has to be if he's going to learn his lesson," Santana tells her.

"I can't believe we're really doing this,"

"Hey, no one's making you," Santana points out.

"I know," Quinn replies. "I want to. It's been a while since we've schemed together."

"True."

"You do a lot of scheming with Rachel?"

"Um, she does it enough on her own," Santana answers. "Occasionally, though."

"Figures," Quinn mutters.

"What?" Santana snaps.

"Nothing," Quinn replies sullenly.

"Stop with the martyr routine."

"Leave her alone, San," Brittany says. "She's just feeling sad because Rachel is even more awesome than she thought."

"Oh."

"_Brittany_."

"So where are other good places to slushie him that we know he'll be there at a certain time and place?"

"When he's teaching," Quinn says. "But are you really going to slushie him in front of a class? That seems particularly harsh."

Santana seems to mull this over a moment. "I suppose you're right. Maybe at the end if we think he still hasn't learned his lesson."

"You're kind of taking this rather seriously," Quinn comments.

"Hey. No one messes with my girl," Santana replies. "Especially not curly haired teachers who have _never_ been on her side."

"And he should be," Brittany adds. "Rachel's super."

Quinn sighs. "I know."

"Sorry, Q," Brittany says. She jumps up and engulfs Quinn in a hug. "Don't worry. We'll find you someone who's perfect for you like Santana is for Rachy."

"Thanks Britt."

**…**

As Mike changes after practice, he watches Finn stay clear of Puck. The quarterback isn't that subtle. He's been avoiding Puck all day, going so far in practice to not even throw him the ball. Mike thought Coach was going to actually shake him.

Though watching Puck right now, Mike wonders if maybe Finn is smarter than they give him credit for. The wink Puck just threw Mike isn't reassuring. Assuming Puck wasn't hitting on him, then he's up to something really not good for Finn. Mike watches as Puck speaks quietly to their teammates. Once he's done and moving on to someone else, the jock looks pissed off and begins searching the locker room. The anger in their eyes makes Mike glad that Finn dressed quickly and fled.

Mike knows he should probably do something, but he tries to stay out of these things. He prefers to witness and learn than actually get involved in the ridiculous drama. Some weeks it's better than TV.

Besides, he's kind of pissed at Finn as well. Mike know he doesn't have all the information about what went down between Finn and Rachel and Santana, but he doesn't think Rachel deserves to be slushied by a friend. Well, he doesn't think anyone deserves to be slushied, but those that were terrorized by it before? Definitely should never have to experience it again.

Feeling rather grim, Mike gathers his stuff and heads home, ignoring the rumbling growls that follow him out of the locker room.

**…**

Santana already knows the joy of pranking and breaking the rules. However, it's been quite a while since she's done anything major. The times with Rachel don't count. She kind of misses it. Maybe she should try to join Rachel more often. Or maybe start doing her own stuff. The school could be under the thumb of two pranksters. They'd be quaking in their boots or whatever.

As she sets the stuff up to spring on Mr. Schue, Santana wonders if there's a more efficient way to do this. Her brain screams to ask Rachel, but Santana knows that won't work. Her girlfriend would most likely just scold her and not offer too much help.

And besides, she's Santana fucking Lopez. She doesn't need anyone's help to be a badass. She's gotten lax because she's had other things to distract her. But she's definitely been losing badassery points lately. She'll have to work on that.

She stops at Britt's house and texts her. A moment later, a blonde head is sticking out Brittany's bedroom window and the blonde is climbing onto a tree by her window. She shimmies down the tree like a monkey and lands on the ground with a flourish. If they weren't trying to be sneaky, Santana might have more patience and would clap.

"Britt," Santana hisses.

Brittany nods and scurries to the car, slipping quietly inside.

"Hi Santana," Brittany whispers loudly as Santana backs out of her driveway.

"Hey, B."

**…**

As Santana stands back to admire her work, she can't help but wonder if there's any aspect of her life that Rachel hasn't affected. The intricate detail needed to pull this off is more than she's ever attempted with anything. This whole thing is simple in idea, but complex in execution.

"Not to mention, you're doing it _for_ Rachel," Brittany adds.

Santana looks over at the blonde in confusion.

"You were thinking out loud," Brittany clarifies.

"Oh."

"Don't be sad, San," Brittany continues. "You've changed her plenty. I mean, did you ever think Rachel Berry would pull pranks on a regular basis? Or blatantly threaten Mr. Schue? Or somehow get on the rare good side of Coach Sylvester?"

"I guess not."

"Maybe you guys bring out the best in each other."

"I'm not sure _best_ is the right word. We bring out _some_thing in each other that's for sure."

"Best is the right word," Brittany answers. "You guys just aren't using it right at the moment. You'll see later."

Santana smiles. "I hope you're right Britt."

"Of course I'm right, silly."

**…**

Thursday morning starts out typical for Will. He gets up, gets ready and has some coffee before heading to McKinley. Sitting at his desk, humming _Keep Holding On_ to himself, Will begins to look over his lesson plan for the day.

When suddenly he feels a rush of cold and wet.

Will finds himself covered with grape slushie.

Looking up, he sees a large plastic up hanging from the ceiling. He wipes the sugary ice from his face and heads to the bathroom to clean up.

Once he's wiped off as much as he can, he heads back to his office. Warily, he sits. Looking up at the still tilted cup. Trying to ignore the massive amount of stickiness he feels, Will attempts to work again.

Only to be shocked by a frontal blast of grape slushie.

Wiping the slush from his eyes, Will sees a hose at the other end of his desk. Standing, he walks around his desk to investigate. The hose is attached to a pole that taped to his desk. He follows it to the floor where he finds another empty slushie cup.

He kicks the empty cup in frustration.

After cleaning up in the bathroom, again. Will seeks out Sue.

**…**

"Sue!"

Sue looks up as her door is thrown open, hitting the wall with a lot of force. There in her doorway, stands Will fuming and apparently covered in something.

"You wanted something, William?" Sue drawls. "Your manners are less than impeccable today."

"You know exactly what this is about," Will fumes. He gestures to his clothing. "You slushied me."

Sue smirks. "I'm pretty sure I didn't," she replies. "Trust me. I would remember and relish that moment."

"Who else would it be?" Will asks. "Who else would set up a slushie cup to fall on me?"

"I can think of a couple people, actually," Sue replies. "Maybe the prankster?"

"Why would the prankster go after me?"

"Maybe he's going after all the incompetent teachers. You'd definitely fit the bill there."

"I do just fine, thank you very much," Will replies.

"Please," Sue scoffs. "The kids here can't even order properly at Taco Bell™, must less any place that actually speaks Spanish. They definitely don't habla español."

"My kids do just fine, Sue."

"Yes, well good luck with the slushies," Sue says, waving him out. "Nasty, sticky business, I hear."

"This isn't over, Sue."

"I expect nothing less, William."

**…**

Will actually considers cancelling glee. He's not sure how to face the kids looking like he does. Thankfully, he has another shirt on underneath his shirt. If anyone asks, he'll just say he split coffee on it.

When he enters the room, the noise dies immediately. Will feels embarrassed even if he's done nothing wrong. Logically he knows the kids were most likely not discussing him, just something they don't want him to know about. Though that list isn't particularly comforting either.

Still after the discussion that happened on Tuesday, the room feels different. Will doesn't want to say things have changed, but maybe they have.

**…**

Watching Santana, Brittany and Quinn huddled together during glee makes Kurt and Mercedes even more curious than usual. They have no idea what to think about that development.

"Maybe they're just comparing notes on being Rachel's Berry's girlfriend," Kurt suggests.

"And Brittany?"

Kurt shrugs. "She's probably dating Rach too. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Wouldn't she have said something?"

"It's Brittany."

Mercedes nods in agreement while wondering how that's even a legitimate argument.

**…**

Friday, Will enters his office feeling apprehensive. It's logical that Sue would continue her attack with more slushies. He checks his surroundings before he sits down. He checks his ceiling, his chair and his desk, but can see no evidence of any sort of slushie throwing device.

Maybe it was just a one day thing. The double dose was to really surprise him and Will can admit whoever did it, succeeded.

This becomes more evident when the first bell rings and he hasn't been slushied. He lets himself relax a bit as she exits his office.

Only to have another grape slushie fall on him as he exits his office. He groans, thankful he at least closed his eyes this time. The burn of sugar is rather painful.

Eyes still closed, he feels some chuckles, but ignores them as he wipes his eyes clear. Thankfully only a handful of people witnessed it. Sighing, he heads towards the bathroom to clean up again.

**…**

Santana is pleased how her little project is going. When she catches a glimpse of Mr. Schue throughout the day, she can make out fade slushie stains. It's part of the reason she chose grape, it's definitely visible. Though Santana knows blue raspberry would have been for that, but Santana didn't want to advertise what she was doing. Not yet, anyway. Besides, grape is Rachel's favorite and she's doing this _for_ Rachel, Santana thinks it's only right.

**…**

Finn is shoved into a locker for the tenth time today. He glares at Karofsky but the hockey player just laughs and pushes him again as he and Azimio strut away.

He's starting to get paranoid. For a moment he wonders if he got a girl pregnant again, but even he knows that's impossible since he's no way even close to having sex with anyone. Still, he can't figure out why all the jocks are suddenly going after him.

He thinks maybe Puck's behind it, but he can't figure out how. It's not like the hockey players care if Rachel is slushied. Maybe they're pushing the whole gay thing again since he and Kurt have been hanging out around school. Though now that they're brothers, he doesn't see why that would matter.

He's glad when it's finally the end of the day, so he can have a bit of a break from all the harassment. Maybe this weekend, he can figure out what the hell's going on.

**…**

"You up for a prank tonight?" Rachel asks Puck.

"Always."

"Excellent, Rachel replies. "I feel like it's been ages."

Puck doesn't reply, just smirks.

"What?"

"You're totally addicted to it,"

"What? Why would you say such a thing?" Rachel asks indignant.

"Because it's true," he replies. "You can't go too long without pulling something, even if it's small."

"This one is definitely not small," Rachel retorts.

"Still," Puck continues, grinning. "I totally got you addicted to being a badass. I have managed to corrupt the great Rachel Berry."

"Have you been drinking already?" Rachel asks. "And it wasn't just you. Santana helped."

Puck is now dancing around the room in celebration.

Rachel watches, an amused expression beginning, before she tries to scowl again.

"Come on, Berry," Puck says. "Dance with me."

Puck grabs Rachel's left hand with his right and begins twirling her around before leading her around the room. Counting off the steps, Rachel finds it's something between a waltz and a fox trot. It shouldn't work so smoothly, but it does.

"Ballroom dancing," Puck tells her before she can ask. "Jewish Community Center. Remember? We were ten?"

"Of course I remember," Rachel replies. "I'm just surprised that you do."

"Just cause the Puckasauraus is a badass, doesn't mean he forgets. Besides, in a few years, this will totally impress the chicks. You know that whole bad boy with a heart of gold or whatever."

"Couldn't you just be a good guy?"

"Nah," Puck replies. "What fun is that?" He manages to surprise her with a small dip and she giggles as he smiles charmingly. "See," Puck says. "My charm is chick getting gold."

**…**

Once Rachel deems it late enough, they head to McKinley. They unload the supplies from the truck and put it in the Radio Flyer™ wagon Rachel brought along. She quickly picks the lock on the side door and they slip inside.

"Do I even want to know how you figured this out?" Puck asks, pulling the wagon behind him.

"I don't know," Rachel replies, quietly. "How much do you care about my planning process?"

"Depends," Puck says. "Does the answer involve a long Berry rant?"

"I don't know. Ask me and we'll see where I end up."

"That's okay," Puck replies. "Maybe later."

They work in silence. It takes longer than Puck thought and shorter than Rachel anticipated. She knows all this work will most likely go over people's heads because it all seems so simple. However, she believes in a job well done.

Puck just wonders how Rachel's mind works. Or at least how she thinks of these things.

**…**

Sunday evening once again find Rachel knocking on the Lopez front door. She's empty handed this time, but was told not to bring a thing.

"Except your sparkling personality," Santana had grumbled before she left that morning.

"Don't sound too complimentary," Rachel had replied.

"An exact quote from my mom. She threatened grounding if I didn't rely the info exactly like that."

"Oh."

So despite feeling like she should have brought something, she didn't.

This time the door is answered by Santana. She's pulled inside before she can utter a greeting. Once the door is firmly clicked shut, Rachel finds herself pressed against it being thoroughly kissed. She tries to fight it because getting caught making out is definitely not on the agenda for the evening. However, the way Santana's tongue is curling around hers is very distracting; she decides to try and enjoy the sweetness of the moment because despite the fact that Santana's parents could walk in on them at any moment, there's so much intensity and love in the kiss that Rachel actually feels overwhelmed.

"Hi," Rachel breathes when they finally break apart for air.

"Hey babe."

"Missed me, did you?"

Santana actually blushes. "Maybe."

"It's nice to see you too."

"If you two are done molesting each other in the entryway, do you think we could sit down to dinner?"

Santana's arms are still wrapped around her and apparently her girlfriend has no intention of letting go, so Rachel turns the best she can while still encircled by Santana.

"Sorry, Tomás," Rachel says. "But I couldn't turn down a greeting like that."

Luckily he just smirks. "Come on, you can hold hands under the table and play footise."

"Papa," Santana whines. "Footise. Really?"

Tomás winks at Rachel as he offers her his arm. She links arms and walks with him to the table. Fingers still laced with Santana's, she drags her girlfriend along behind them.

"…own father hitting on _my_ girlfriend." Rachel hears Santana mumble behind them, causing her to giggle.

Still they hands never separate as they sit at the table and Clara joins them. They stay joined throughout the whole meal. Thankfully Rachel is just ambidextrous enough to be able to eat with her left hand.

**…**

Santana knows she threw Rachel off a bit with her greeting. She couldn't help it. She hadn't realized until today what hiding her relationship with Rachel from her family was doing to her. But now that the burden seems to be lifted and there weren't any of the negative consequences she was expecting didn't happen, she can almost relax.

She blames it on her father. He had pulled her aside earlier that afternoon for a serious father daughter talk.

"We haven't had a chance to really discuss your relationship with Rachel," he had told her.

Santana had felt the apprehension churning in her stomach. This is exactly what she was afraid of.

"We can start," he continued. "By you telling me about your reluctance to tell us."

Santana shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

"Santana."

"I don't know why you're surprised," she had replied. "I don't talk about a lot of things with you guys."

"Perhaps. But this was to such an extreme point."

"What does it matter?"

This was met with a silent stare.

"I don't know. Maybe because I never felt like this before? Maybe I was scared. Maybe I was worried about what you'd think. I mean, me and Britt was never really anything serious. And I thought maybe that's why you guys were so cool about it. But me and Rach? It's serious."

"I'm sure it is," he had told her. "But you two are in high school. There's a big wide world out there."

"Don't care. We're it for each other."

"You're seventeen."

"I know. Doesn't matter."

"I'm not trying to discourage you, Santana," he had said. "I simply have concerns."

"I'm good to her. I swear," Santana had told him. "I look out for her. I don't let people say shit to or about her. She knows I have her back."

"And what about her? Does she look out for you?"

"I don't need anyone to look out for me," she had almost sneered.

Another silent stare.

"She does. Sometimes I can't believe it because she's so low on the social totem pole, but she still manages to protect me. But the best thing is that she just seems to _get_ me. Because of that, it sometimes it feels like she does more for me than I do for her."

"I'm sure you both do just fine."

"I mean she even does stuff she doesn't want to. Because I want to."

"Such as?"

"Uh…" The first thing that had come to mind had been the tattoo, but Santana was pretty sure that's a conversation that needs to happen _years_ from now, if never. "I don't know. Little stuff, I guess. Like what movie we watch when we hang out?"

She should have known her father would see through that.

"Santana. What aren't you telling me?"

"Papa, come on, it's no big deal."

"_Santana_."

Santana took a deep breath, but still couldn't make the words come out.

"Santana Lopez, tell me. Now."

"Wehaveeachother'snamestattooedonus."

This time the silence is extremely uncomfortable and long.

"Please tell me you did it properly, so there were no concerns for infection," he said finally.

Santana supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that her father the _doctor_ would respond like that.

"We did. We were very safe. Rachel wouldn't have it any other way."

"No, I suppose she wouldn't."

The silence that falls this time is less tense, but Santana knows her father is still waiting for something.

"Well," he said finally. "Let me see it."

"What?"

"I want to see it."

"_Papa_."

"I know it's not someplace inappropriate. That doesn't seem like Rachel's style," her father told her. "Nor is it X rated. So you're going to show me."

"Why?"

"To ease my state of mind at the moment."

Reluctantly, Santana stood and pushed her jeans down and pulled her shirt up.

Her father had looked at it and his eyes widened almost comically. And then he let out a loud, full belly laugh.

Feeling highly embarrassed, Santana fixed her clothes and sat.

When her father finally calmed down, he asked, "What does hers say?"

"Property of Santana Lopez."

Santana could only call his grin, shit eating. "Well good. I'm glad they're both equally possessive and mildly offensive."

"Rachel's idea," Santana muttered.

"I assumed as much."

"Are you going to tell mom?" Santana asked.

"Eventually," he admited. "But for the moment, we'll keep it between ourselves. All right?"

"Felix can never know," Santana told him. "Never."

Her father had chuckled at that. "I won't tell him."

"Thanks, Papa. Does this mean you're okay with me and Rach?"

"More than okay."

He then stood and pulled her into a hug.

"Maybe you'll actually start to believe your mother and I when we tell you we're on your side."

"Yeah, okay."

She'd spent the rest of the afternoon, feeling slightly anxious to see Rachel. It felt like something major had changed. So when she opened the door for Rachel a couple hours later, Santana couldn't help herself. She wanted to kiss her girlfriend, so she did. For once she didn't have to worry about what her parents would think if they saw them.

**…**

Monday, Will is extremely wary. He checks the ceiling, his chair and his desk, as well as the doorway, but can see no evidence of slushies. He sighs and sits at his desk. When it's time for the students to arrive, he stand and carefully approaches his doorway. He walks through, but nothing happens. Perhaps last week was just an isolated incident.

He is proven wrong when he sits down to lunch in his office. It's safer to eat alone; no confrontations or odd looks in here.

Except once again, he receives a slushie to the face. Feeling confident about it being an isolated incident, Will hadn't checked his desk before he sat. If he had, he might've noticed the hose on the other side of his desk. When Will approaches it, it sprays out more grape slushie directly in his face. Sputtering, he rips it off his desk and whips it into the garbage can.

This subterfuge is more than he expected from Sue. Even if she did prank him for an entire week, he didn't expect to be slushied daily. He could confront her again, but he knows it won't stop the attacks. He'll have to brainstorm counter attacks.

Part Two

Monday morning, no one really notices anything is different until the warning bell for first period rings. Then the students begin rushing to class, only to find that they're unable to go up the stairs. It seems someone's made the stairs a slide.

Some students attempt to walk up anyway, pulling themselves up with the rail, but very few are successful. It doesn't help that once they reach the landing, they have to pull themselves up another flight of stairs.

A few teachers, upon seeing this, simply shrug and go to inform Figgins.

At the other stairwell, people are having a similar experience, though no one's attempting to get up the stairs. They're all huddled together, staring at the plexiglass that has turned the stairs into a slide.

**…**

"Why is it always Mondays?" Figgins grumbles, following several of his staff down the hall. He can hardly believe what he's hearing and so he has to see it himself. The huddle of students near the stairwell is his first indication. They part and allow him to stand at the bottom.

It looks simple enough. There's a massive piece of plexiglass covering the stairs, making it more like a slide. He yanks two jocks from the crowd and has them attempt to take the plexiglass off. To no avail. It seems that it's very firmly attached. They can't even move it an inch.

"It's screwed down," jock number one tells him, crouching down to examine it.

"Now what?" Someone calls from the crowd of students.

Figgins sighs and does a mental count of how many classrooms are on the second floor. "To the gym," he tells them. "I'll make an announcement in a moment."

Everyone tramples towards the gym, their volume growing as they discuss this very odd development.

Back in his office, he has his secretary tell the students at the other stairwell to go to the lunch room.

"You wanted something, boss?"

Figgins looks up to see his lead janitor standing in front of him. Explaining the odd situation to him, Figgins demands it be fixed by the end of second period.

"We'll do our best, boss," the janitor replies. "But if it's the prankster, it means it was done pretty thoroughly. This guy doesn't fuck around."

Figgins waves him off, knowing full well how the prankster wreaks havoc at this school. "Just get it up immediately." And then Figgins is heading back to his office to make an announcement about the stairs.

"Easier said than done," the janitor mumbles, going off to find his tools.

**…**

It takes the janitors nearly all day to pry the plexiglass off the stairwell. Because not only were they screwed down, there was also apparently glue involved. It also didn't help that the screws were stripped, making it almost impossible to remove them.

However, the real surprise of the day was the envelop they found under the plexiglass that simply read, _To the Janitors_.

The lead janitor, Tony, rips it open and pulls out a short note.

_Dear Janitorial Staff,__  
>I am very sorry how much work I am causing for you. I know this one was probably the most difficult yet. However, I am having too much fun to stop anytime soon. I hope you understand.<br>The McKinley Prankster_

Tony smiles because yeah, it's been a total pain cleaning up these pranks, but it's also given him and two others job security. Because as long as the prankster's around, Figgins can't fire them; he needs them. Still, it was nice of the kid to apologize. Especially because they've never really gotten a thank you from Figgins about anything they've done.

He debates whether or not to show this note to Figgins and decides not to. Instead, he relays the message to Bob and Mitch, the other two janitors and stuffs the note in his pocket. He knows the principal will just analyze the shit out of the note, in hopes of find a clue. However, Tony is willing to be, he won't find any. The note is typed and probably on the school's computer. Beyond the odd lack of contractions, the note doesn't seem to give anything away. It'll make a nice daily antidote for his wife over dinner tonight.

**…**

The rest of the day, classes that would be held on the second floor are held haphazardly in the gym and lunch room. Needless to say, not much gets done.

**…**

"Noah, can I ask you a question?" Rachel asks Puck as they walk to lunch.

"Yeah?"

"Why is Finn getting pushed around so much? I noticed it happening a bit last week, but today it's been especially brutal. I saw his head snap against a locker earlier."

"Good," Puck growls.

"_Noah_."

"You remember a few weeks ago when Ferguson, Williams and Bester got busted by Figgins for smoking pot in the furnace room? And were suspended for like two weeks?"

"No," Rachel replies.

"Yeah, you do," Puck tells her. "I told you about it. How the stoners were all pissed at the jocks for losing their smoking spot until they found a better one next to the vending machine with a broken lock because they can have a damn Kit Kat whenever they want now?"

"What does this have to do with Finn.

"I told all the jocks that Hudson was the one that let it slip."

"Why?"

"Because he deserves the abuse. And more."

"I'm not so sure about that," Rachel replies. "What did he do?"

Puck stops walking and waits for Rachel to face him. In a very un-Puck-like move, he grabs both her hands. "Trust me, bro. You don't want to know."

"I'm sure I don't," Rachel agrees. "Nonetheless, I would like to know."

"You don't, Rach," Puck replies. "Maybe I'll tell you eventually. But right now you don't want to know."

Rachel's eyes narrow at this statement. "Fine. For now. "But don't think this will be forgotten, Noah."

"Trust me," Puck replies. "I don't."

**…**

The stairs being turned into a slide is possibly the most ridiculous thing yet and the whole school is abuzz.

"I still think they could have let me ride down it," Artie says at lunch. "It's basically a ramp. It would have been a hell of a ride."

"Safety issues, I'm sure," Tina replies.

"When did this school become so concerned about safety?"

"You just asked the wrong person," Puck tells him. "I bet the janitors would have let you."

"So it's your fault for going to class," Rachel says. "We should have all done it. Stolen a sled or something."

"That would have made a horrible noise," Tina replies. "Something akin to nails on the chalkboard."

"Do they even have chalkboards anymore?" Artie asks.

"You guys are losing focus," Kurt interrupts.

"How so?" Rachel asks.

"If the prankster is going to start pulling such elaborate pranks, we may be in trouble."

"You don't think turning the school into a castle was elaborate enough?" Puck asks.

"I'm not sure you know the proper definition then, Kurt," Artie adds.

"Elaborate _inside_ the school," Kurt clarifies. "I have concerns."

"Maybe you can write the prankster a letter," Mercedes suggests.

"And how would I deliver it?"

"School paper?" Tina offers.

"We have a school paper?"

"No offense Kurt," Rachel says. "But what could you need to say to the prankster?"

"Why do you care?"

"Can't _I_ be curious?"

"Fine," Kurt says. "One, is he going to start doing things a person could consider dangerous-"

"A person?" Puck questions.

"Two," Kurt continues, ignoring him. "What if someone starts trying to copy him? I'll give the prankster credit, everything he's pulling seems safe and relatively harmless. But considering the cretins that attend this school, I can't see us being lucky enough to not suffer something."

"Are there that many possible candidates?" Rachel asks. "I mean who at this school is both badass and cunning enough to pull that off?"

"I have some thoughts."

Rachel sighs. "It's not Santana."

"She's the answer to the question I asked," Kurt replies.

"Where do you think he found all that plexiglass?" Tina asks.

"Hardware store," Puck suggests.

"And no one noticed?"

"This is Lima."

**…**

Tuesday morning, Will is determined to not be hit by a slushie. He'll check his chair, his desk and the ceiling. Sue Sylvester isn't going to get the best of him.

However, he didn't anticipate an immediate full frontal assault. The moment he steps into his office, he's hit with a wave of grape slushie. It's the worst yet because it hits almost his entire body, sparing only his ankles and feet.

At least he brought a change of clothing he thinks as he wipes the stinging cold syrup from his face. And even though he's still holding the spare clothes, he feels confident that they're still clean and protected in his gym bag.

He hurries to the bathroom and changes. It's not a good start to the morning.

**…**

Tuesday after glee, Will asks Rachel to stay.

"What do you need Mr. Schue?" Rachel asks primly after everyone else has left.

"I need some revenge ideas," Will answers.

"Um, why?"

"It's for this, uh, screenplay I'm writing," Will stutters.

"Oh. Couldn't you just google stuff?" Rachel questions. "I mean, isn't that what people do? Google stuff?"

Will nods, though internally cursing. Why didn't that occur to him? "I guess," he allows. "I just thought I'd ask you because you're an excellent planner."

"Right," Rachel says. "Is Coach Sylvester going after you again, Mr. Schue?"

Will nods, sadly, knowing he can't tell her what Sue's doing. He knows he'll get no sympathy from Rachel.

"I'm not sure I can help then, Mr. Schue," Rachel tells him. "I don't want to go up against Coach Sylvester."

"Rachel," Will says. "As your teacher, I would take full responsibility for whatever consequences arise."

Rachel grimaces. "You say that, but I'm not so sure. Besides, even if that was true, you can't protect me from Coach Sylvester. She's like a tidal wave. She just takes out everyone and thing in her path."

"She is, uh, forceful," Will agrees. "But that's hardly a reason—"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Schue," Rachel interrupts. "But I can't. I'm sorry."

Will sighs. "It's fine."

"Is it all right if I go then?" Rachel asks. "I'm sure Santana is waiting for me."

"Of course, Rachel," Will answers. "Thanks for your time."

"Bye Mr. Schue."

**…**

"What'd Schuester want?" Santana asks as they drive to the Berrys'.

"_Apparently_," Rachel says. "Someone is harassing Mr. Schue. He wanted some ideas of how to strike back."

"Oh. Did you give him any?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "He thinks it's Coach Sylvester. Which is absurd, really. However, with that belief being firmly held by him, I can honestly say, I don't want to go against Coach Sylvester."

"Who would?"

"Crazy people and idiots."

"Exactly."

"But isn't it odd?" Rachel muses. "That Mr. Schue is suddenly getting harassed. I wonder how it's happening. Is it the same thing over and over, which definitely would be annoying. Or is it something different each time so he doesn't know what to expect."

"Mystery," Santana agrees.

"Uh huh."

They drive in silence for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel notices the grin on Santana's face growing. There are only two reasons for _that_ smile to grow. And Rachel's hands are firmly in her lap. So that leaves only one option.

"What did you do?"

"Whadda mean?"

"You're smirking."

"Maybe I'm just smiling," Santana responds. "Because I'm happy."

"Yes, but _why_ are you so happy?"

"I get the spend the afternoon with my girl," Santana replies. "What other reason do I need?"

"Uh huh," Rachel nods. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"The most beautiful and talented girlfriend in all of Ohio?"

"Who _knows_ you," Rachel says.

"Yeah. And?"

"_Santana_."

"_Rachel_."

It's silent in the car until they reach the Berry residence.

"I suppose this is one of those things I don't want to know and that you'll explain to me later?" Rachel asks as Santana parks in the driveway.

"Yes?"

Rachel doesn't answer, just exits the car.

Santana groans and chases after her.

"Why must you keep things from me?" Rachel asks once Santana catches up to her in her room.

"It's no big deal."

"Noah's doing that too," Rachel says. "And while you both probably have valid reasons, it just makes me feel worse."

"Don't compare me to Puck."

"Why?"

"We just want to protect you," Santana answers.

"Which I appreciate. Really," Rachel says. "But I also resent being treated like a child that can't handle that the world can be cruel. You _both_ know that I am well aware of that fact."

"Rach."

"Unless you're both doing something I'm not comfortable with," Rachel muses. "I suppose then I could interpret your secretiveness as a way to avoid an argument, which I can understand."

"Thank you?"

"Maybe I'm just scared," Rachel continues. "I mean, what if you two are returning to the old ways."

"I would never-"

"It's always been a concern, a fear even, that things will go back to the way they were."

Santana doesn't say anything, just pulls Rachel into her arms.

"I'm being stupid," Rachel mumbles into Santana's shoulder.

"Course not. Sometimes I worry about that too."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Santana answers. "I mean, me and Puckerman are better, but we're still susceptible to peer pressure. We always have been; maybe not as much as some, but more than others."

"You're not reassuring me."

"I'm being honest," Santana tells her. "I figured you'd rather have that."

"Just promise me you're not being too cruel," Rachel says as she falls onto her bed, dragging Santana with her.

"I swear."

**…**

Wednesday Kurt gives Finn a ride to school.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Kurt says. "How come you're such a target around the halls lately?"

"Um, I'm not sure."

Kurt glances over at Finn out of the corner of his eye. He looks especially sheepish.

"Liar."

"I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

"Finn, I just want to help."

Finn sighs. "I pissed off Puck last week. Maybe this is him getting back at me."

"What'd you do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Finn," Kurt says. "I'm sure it's not that big of deal."

"Kurt, just drop it."

"Fine," Kurt huffs. "Forgive me for wanting to help."

**…**

Will is extremely cautious when he enters his office Wednesday morning. He checks his chair, his desk, the ceiling, the door frame, everywhere he can think of. He finds no evidence and hopes that it's over.

When the bell for first period rings, his confidence grows. Perhaps it was just a few day thing. Well, now he can certainly understand where the kids were coming from. Worrying about being slushied sucks. He's just glad he can return to his normal days.

**…**

Rachel is pulled into Figgins' office the moment she steps inside McKinley. This time she's anticipating it. She'd been surprised it hadn't happened on Tuesday. He must have been busy dealing with other things.

"I'm sure you know why you're here, Ms. Berry."

"Perhaps you could enlighten me, Principal Figgins."

Figgins sighs. "The prankster has struck again. Perhaps you could provide some insight."

"Sir, I'm not sure why you're continuing this futile exercise," Rachel replies. "You already know what my answer is."

"Why do you keep refusing?"

"I can't tell you things I don't know," Rachel tells him. "Real evidence is one thing, but speculation and rumors have no merit."

"I'm not sure you understand the desperate level I'm at here, Ms. Berry."

"On the contrary," Rachel replies. "The fact that you're constantly harassing me is a very telling sign. However, I can't help you."

"You disappoint me, Ms. Berry."

"Yes, well, I have nothing to say to that." Rachel stands. "If you'll excuse me, I need to visit my locker before first period."

**…**

It's quiet as Will eats his lunch. Despite the chaos that always seems to be going on in the hall, when the door is closed, he can pretend otherwise. He wonders if that makes him pathetic.

He's just finishing a banana when a rush of cold and ice is dropped on him again. Grape slushie. Again.

Looking up he sees two slushie cups dangling from the ceiling. Several drops fall and one hits him straight in the eye. It stings and he fights back tears.

Standing, he grabs a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change.

**…**

"So I figured out why Finn's getting pushed around," Mercedes tells Kurt as she sits down at the lunch table.

"Yeah?"

"All the jocks think he snitched."

"About what?"

"I'm not sure," Mercedes admits. "But it's about those three guys that got suspended for like two weeks."

"So he broke some sort of jock code?"

Mercedes shrugs. "I guess. Except I can't see him doing that."

"Yeah, me either."

"You think Finn knows?" Mercedes asks.

"Yeah, he does. He thinks Puck's behind it."

"Why?"

"Some lover's spat they're having."

"Maybe if he just apologizes," Mercedes suggests.

"Yeah, maybe," Kurt agrees. "Problem is, doesn't seem like he will."

"Then I guess he's stuck being the school's tackling dummy."

**…**

"I think it's going pretty good," Santana says as she walks to her car with Quinn and Brittany after Cheerios practice.

"Well Mr. Schue certainly looks miserable this week," Quinn replies. "I guess that's what we're going for."

"I think it's going great," Brittany adds.

"What now, Q?" Santana asks. "Normally you don't worry about the feelings of the little people."

"You make me sound rather cruel," Quinn tells her.

"You can be sometimes, Q," Brittany says. "But San and I don't mind. We are too."

"She's right, Fabray," Santana adds. "Maybe you should stop fighting things so much and just accept them."

Quinn stares at Santana for a moment. "You're one to talk."

"At least I'm trying."

"I am too," Quinn insists. "I'm sorry I'm not doing it on _your_ timeline."

"Guys," Brittany says.

"Sorry, Britt," they chorus.

**…**

By the time Thursday rolls around, Will can say without a doubt that he understands what his glee kids were insinuating the week before. Having the threat of a slushie hanging over him is horrible. At least they could kind of see it coming. He has been constantly blindsided. He's finding it very disorientating.

**…**

Finn is miserable. The whole time he'd spent being slushied when he thought he'd gotten Quinn pregnant wasn't as bad as his week has been. Because before he'd been mostly ignored. These past few days he's been pushed, shoved, punched, kicked and had things thrown at him. The jocks have been relentless, doing something to him almost every time they pass him in the hall or while sitting in class. He has to sit in the back corner of the room so he doesn't have anyone behind him. The classes with assigned seating are the worse.

He knows this is all Puck's doing. He just wishes he could figure out a way to stop it. Because if the other guys really think he squealed, this isn't stopping anytime soon and he's not sure how much more he can take.

**…**

Lunchtime finds Rachel sitting on the edge of the auditorium stage with Marisa Lawson. When the freshman had approached her earlier in the day, Rachel could only hear the echo of Santana's words in her mind. Still, she agreed to meet for lunch.

Rachel is carefully eating her carrots as Marisa eats a sandwich and swings her legs against the side of the stage. They're not really talking and for once, Rachel's okay with that. She doesn't know what to think about Marisa constantly seeking her out lately. She has no problems with it; she simply wonders what started the need.

"How do you know if this is what you're meant to do?" Marisa asks eventually, gesturing to their surroundings.

"How do I specifically?" Rachel asks. "Or people in general?"

"Both, I guess."

"I've just always known," Rachel answers. "There's never been another option. I've never wanted to do anything else. Thankfully, I have the immense talent to pull it off. I'm not sure what I'd do if I couldn't."

"Oh."

"As for other people?" Rachel continues. "I'm not sure. I assume it has to get inside you. You have to want it. Want it more than you want anything because want alone isn't enough to make it happen. That intense want has to drive you to anything and everything it takes to make it happen."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Why do you ask?"

"Some days I just wonder if I'm good enough," Marisa explains.

"You can't let this place get you down," Rachel tells her. "I know it's tough. Trust me, I know. But you're better than this place. And you'll get out of here and be something amazing."

"You think so?"

Marisa's voice is so full of hope, it actually gives Rachel pause.

"It's only my opinion, Marisa," she says finally. "But I think good things are in your future."

"Thanks, Rach."

**…**

Will stops by his office before glee. He's been on edge the entire day, but he hasn't been slushied yet and since the school day is over, he feels confident the threat is over; at least for today.

Digging around on his desk, Will searches for the music he needs for this afternoon. He tries to hurry because he doesn't need to experience another Rachel Berry lecture about promptness.

He then remembers he hastily stuck it in the bottom drawer when a student had come in during lunch to ask for help.

Opening his bottom drawer turns out to be a mistake. Instead of sheet music, he gets a slushie facial. Sputtering through the pain, because he didn't have a chance to close his eyes, Will tries to stay calm. Getting angry at this point is useless; his goal now should be to clean up.

Will stands and grabs his change of clothing from the other bottom drawer before heading to the bathroom. He's definitely going to be late. Hopefully Rachel will be too distracted to notice.

**…**

Quinn is on her way to the choir room for glee practice when she runs into Rachel.

"Oh, hello Quinn," Rachel says, never breaking her stride. "Are you ready for glee?"

"I suppose so," Quinn replies, falling into step next to Rachel.

"You sound tired. Is Coach Sylvester running you ragged this week?"

"Something like that."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rachel replies. "But I suppose it's worth it if you win again?"

"It usually is at the time," Quinn tells her. "Some days it's difficult to remember that, though."

"Well, hopefully, glee will be a nice distraction."

"Hopefully."

**…**

Glee is particularly dreary Thursday afternoon. Mr. Schue's focus seems to be elsewhere and it's affecting how the kids perform. It doesn't help that Finn is avoiding Puck, Mike, Santana and Rachel while looking like a kicked puppy. Kurt and Mercedes are too busy trying to analyze everyone to pay the proper attention. Santana seems to enjoy smirking at Mr. Schue while Quinn is actively avoiding him. For reasons Rachel can't fathom, Brittany can't seem to stop touching her, which is, of course, throwing off the choreography.

Finally Rachel can't take it anymore. "Mr. Schue," she interrupts. "Perhaps we could take a five minute break while everyone tries to regain the focus they never had so we can have a proper practice."

"That sounds like a good idea, Rachel," Will agree. "Five minutes, guys."

Finn immediately skulks into the corner while Puck stands nearby, glaring at him. Brittany pulls Rachel into the nearest chair and plops down next to her. She tugs Quinn down on the other side of her and just grins madly when Santana joins Rachel on her chair, each sitting on half.

The air in the room is anything, but gleeful. Rachel has a feeling this might be another useless practice. She wonders if their drama is going to stop them from winning anything because of their lack of focus. It's difficult to care though when Santana is teasingly running her hands up and down her back, going as far to slip under her shirt.

Distractedly, Rachel watches the seconds tick by. When the break is finished, she jumps up and tries to use her exuberance to compel the others to throw themselves into the song.

**…**

Rachel is gathering her things together after glee when she notices Mike is still seated in the second row.

"Mike, practice is over," she calls out.

Mike smiles. "I know. Just don't feel like leaving quite yet."

Rachel smiles back. "You might be the only one. Everyone else is extremely eager to leave this place."

"Yeah, I don't think everyone's having a good week."

"Some better than others I'm sure," Rachel replies. "But isn't that always true?"

Mike nods. "It is." He stands. "Can I walk you out?"

"Sure."

He's next to her, offering his arm with she accepts with a giggle. They stroll out of the room and into the hallway.

"You need a ride home?" he asks.

"No, Santana's coming over," Rachel answers. "She's probably waiting at her car."

When they reach the parking lot, they can see that Santana is indeed waiting for Rachel. The Cheerio is leaning against the hood of her car, arms and legs crossed, a lazy grin on her face. Of course it slowly disappears when she sees Rachel arm in arm with Mike.

Rachel knows Mike sees this and knows what it means, but his steps don't falter as he walks her to the car. They unloop arms and Mike kisses the back of her hand just to tweak Santana a bit.

"M'lady," Mike says as he lets go of Rachel's hand. "Have a nice evening ladies. I'm sure I'll see you both tomorrow." He half bows, not wanting to turn his back on Santana yet, as he walks away. Spinning on his heel, he begins to whistle tunelessly as he walks to his car, a few spots over.

Getting into his car, he knows he should feel bad about baiting Santana, but his intentions were innocent. Besides, he'd have to be suicidal to go after Rachel. Hopefully she knows that. Well, if she doesn't, Mike is sure Rachel will mention it.

**…**

Will is glad it's Friday for more than one reason. The biggest being after today he won't have to worry about being slushied for two whole days.

He'd feel better if he knew when or how it was going to happen. The sneak attacks are the worst of it in his mind.

Nor can he figure out how Sue is pulling it off. Not only setting things up, but the timing. How does she know where he's going to be at a certain time. Is he that predictable?

Maybe he should shake up his routine a bit. Take a different hallway when given the chance and that sort of thing. Maybe that will help cut down on the attacks.

**…**

"So you're really not going to tell me?" Rachel asks Santana as they readjust their clothing.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Santana replies.

"_Santana_."

Seeing they're as put back together as they're going to get, Santana slowly opens the door of the second floor janitor's closet and sticks her head out. Because it's lunch, the hallway is empty and so she slips out, followed by Rachel.

"Why can't I just have a thing?" Santana asks, entwining their fingers as they walk towards the stairs. "I mean, you don't tell me everything _you're_ doing."

Rachel sighs. "You're right. Of course. I am being rather intrusive. I apologize. I'm just worried. However, try to see from my point of view. You've got some big badass project you're working on that you won't tell me about. Normally you can't wait to brag about it. How am I supposed to interpret this?"

"You just _assume_ it's some big badass project," Santana points out. "Maybe I've taken up knitting and I'm embarrassed."

"I'm not sure you have the patience for knitting, tiger."

"Well, no, I don't. But you get my point."

"I suppose I do."

"Okay then?"

"Just promise me you're being careful," Rachel says. "I worry."

"I won't get caught, babe. I promise."

**…**

Just as she leaves Rachel at her locker, Santana turns to find Becky standing in front of her.

"Coach Sylvester would like to see you," she says.

Santana nods and follow Becky down the hall to Coach's office. She sits and waits for Coach to speak.

"I'm thinking of making you Cheerios captain," Coach says finally.

Santana's jaw drops. "Say what?"

"You're torturing my nemesis," Coach answers. "In a way that hadn't even occurred to me. It's outstanding."

"Q and Britt are helping to," Santana mentions.

"Still, I have no doubt that it was your idea."

"Of course it was my idea," Santana replies. "He doesn't get to be so fucking nonchalant about Rachel getting slushied. Not after all I did to make sure it stopped."

Coach Sylvester grins. "Because unlike William, you protect your people."

"Damn straight. You're really not going to make me captain, are you?"

"You don't want it?"

"Not anymore," Santana says. "I've got what I need."

"Jesus, I'd worry that Berry has ruined you if I didn't know she wasn't setting you up for larger things."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll figure it out," Coach Sylvester smirks. "Dismissed."

**…**

Lunch is nearly over and Will hasn't been slushied. He knows there's still plenty of time in the day, but the longer he goes without being hit, the better he feels. The end of the week and a small break from it all is getting closer and closer.

He finishes up his food and corrects the last of the quizzes he needed to get through. As he's cleaning up his desk, the bell rings and he stands. He grabs his things and exits his office.

Except the minute he steps through the door, a slushie falls onto him. Grape. Again.

He wipes his eyes clear and spins on his heel. He digs out his spare set of clothes and still holding his teaching materials, heads for the bathroom. If he's lucky, he can clean up quickly and only be a minute or two late for class.

**…**

"Mr. Schue, you got a minute?"

The final bell rang about ten minutes ago, so Will is surprised to look up and find Finn standing awkwardly in his office doorway.

"Of course, Finn, come on in. Have a seat."

Finn sits and just looks at Will.

"What can I help you with, Finn?" Will asks finally.

"Um, well, the thing is, I need some advice, I guess."

"Okay."

"Let's say I'm getting, uh, bugged about something that I didn't do. And I don't know how to stop it."

"What do you mean, bugged?"

"You know, people messing with me or whatever."

"Have you tried talking to them?"

"Talking wouldn't work," Finn answers. "Trust me, Mr. Schue, talking definitely wouldn't help."

"Have you tried standing up to them?"

"That wouldn't work either, Mr. Schue."

"Why not?" Will asks.

"It just wouldn't."

"Well, then, besides someone stepping in on your behalf, I'm not sure what else to say."

"Yeah, I kinda figured."

"Finn," Will says. "I want to help. Maybe if you just tried standing up to them. I know you'll be out numbered, but it might make them reconsider if they know you're going to fight back. Or maybe you could ask one of the guys, like Puck to help you out."

"Puck?" Finn almost chokes on the name. "I don't think Puck would help me out right now."

"Why not?"

"He's kinda pissed at me right now."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, if you want me to talk to Figgins, I can," Will offers. "Maybe he ca-"

"No way, Mr. Schue. Thanks but no thanks. That'll just get me tossed in a dumpster."

"Seriously?" Will asks. "That's not right."

"Course not, Mr. Schue," Finn replies. "Maybe I just need to wait it out a bit. Hopefully they'll find a new target soon."

"If you're sure," Will tells him.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Finn stands. "Thanks for listening, Mr. Schue."

"Course Finn. Anytime."

**…**

"Why do you think Rachel isn't coming to dinner Sunday night?" Santana asks.

She's lounging on her bed, beer in hand. Quinn is stretched out next to her holding a bottle of water while Brittany's on the floor because she feels the need to shift every few seconds and kept causing beer and water to be spilled on the bed.

"I still can't believe how cool your parents are with everything," Quinn comments.

"After Puck, Rachel is like a dream come true," Brittany pipes up.

"Well, that's certainly true," Quinn says.

"Well?" Santana says. "I asked a question."

"She's _your_ girlfriend, Lopez."

"Maybe she actually has something else going on," Brittany replies. "Maybe her lesson really did get rescheduled. You know how busy Rach is. Sunday would be one of the few days she could do a make up."

"True," Santana allows.

"Why so paranoid, Lopez?"

"I'm not paranoid, Fabray," Santana snaps. "I'm curious."

"Uh huh, whatever you say."

**…**

Rachel's glad she was able to turn down Sunday dinner with the Lopez's this week. It's not that she doesn't enjoy it, because she does. It's been a while since she's sat down to a family dinner. Her fathers aren't around enough for it.

She just wants to give Santana a little space. She knows she pushes Santana a lot. Though this family dinner thing was more Mrs. Lopez, Rachel would rather not tempt fate. She doesn't want to crowd Santana. She tries not to, but every once in while, she forgets.

Staring at her phone, Rachel has an urge to call Santana. For some reason, she wonders if her girlfriend is thinking about her. Sometimes if she is, she'll send a text.

However, tonight Rachel has no idea. Because she's supposed to be at her lesson, she turned off her phone like she would if she really was at a lesson.

She knows she's playing a bit of a dangerous game. If Santana finds out she lied, she might not believe that Rachel just wanted to give her space. Hopefully she won't assume infidelity. Rachel really believes they're past believing that.

Well, she hopes anyway.

**…**

Monday morning, Will strolls cautiously into his office. He doesn't bother doing his usual checks. They don't seem to do any good. Whoever is doing this, seems to be at least three steps ahead of him.

It has to be Sue. Who else could it be? The dedication alone reminds him of no one else. Well, except Rachel, but he knows she would never-would she?

Will shakes his head to himself. He feels fairly confident that it isn't Rachel. She isn't the type. Santana, maybe, but he's not sure she has that kind of focus if it doesn't involve defiling her sexual partner.

When the warning bell for first period rings, Will lets out a sigh of relief. At least for now, it seems he's slushie free.

**…**

Rachel is leaving second period when she sees Finn in the halls. She's about to wave at him when he notices her. His eyes go comically wide and he abruptly changes direction. He almost takes out a couple of Cheerios as he does so.

Rachel doesn't know what to think about his reaction. She stands in the hallway for a moment watching Finn scurry away. She'll have to ask Noah later what that was all about.

**…**

Gathering his things at the end of the day, Will is apprehensive. The fact that he's made it this far into the day without being hit doesn't bode well in his mind. He wonders if he's going to be exiting the school. If so, maybe he'll be able to figure out who's behind these attacks.

He walks slowly through the deserted halls, listening. Nothing _sounds_ out of the ordinary. However he's been deceived before.

When he reaches the main door, he pauses trying to see any evidence of an attack. He can't see anything, but he's learned that doesn't seem to matter.

Only when he's pulling out of the parking lot, does Will let out a sigh of relief. Maybe whomever it is got bored and gave up. He smiles. Maybe tomorrow will be an all right day.

**…**

Puck has barely seen Finn this week. Too bad; he's curious how Hudson's handling being a punching bag this week. Maybe now he'll understand why what he did to Rachel is so horrible.

Though knowing Finn, probably not.

He knows he should feel guilty, but he just can't. He's sick of his attitude. He understands the guy was hurt when Rachel broke up with him, but it was all his doing. Puck wonders if he's realized that yet.

Puck wonders when Rachel became his best friend and Finn became just a douchebag he has to occasionally deal with.

**…**

Tuesday morning, Will drives to McKinley believing that his days of being slushied are over. It was most likely just a week thing to teach him a lesson, he muses. It makes sense. Or if it was Sue, it was just a distraction. It's not the first time she's messed with him for a week and then moved on. It probably won't be the last either.

Still, Will can't help but feel a little jubilant about his day. He walks across the parking lot humming under his breath.

Just as he's reaching for the door handle, a waterfall of grape slushie falls on him. He quickly wipes his eyes and looks around. Except for the icy cold drink covering him and the concrete, there's no proof anything happened.

Cursing to himself, he heads inside, going immediately to the bathroom to change.

**…**

"You ever feel like we're missing something?" Mercedes asks Kurt as he digs through his locker.

"Such as?"

"I don't know," she replies. "It just feels like there's something big going on and we're missing some details."

"We could investigate."

"I wouldn't even know where to start," Mercedes replies.

"Well your feeling must be coming from somewhere," Kurt points out.

"Yeah, maybe."

"We'll just keep our eyes and ears even more open. We just need to finely tune our senses."

**…**

Wanting to work on a song over lunch, Rachel heads to the choir room. However once she arrives, she finds that it isn't empty.

"Oh, hi, Mike."

"Hey Rachel."

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be here," Rachel says.

"It's fine," Mike replies. "Just didn't feel like eating in the lunch room."

"I can leave if you want to be alone."

"Why are you here?" Mike asks.

"I wanted to practice a song," Rachel answers.

"Oh. Okay. Go ahead."

"Are you sure? I mean, if you didn't want company…"

"It's fine. You practice. I'll eat. And I'll get some nice lunch music. Right?"

"If you're sure," Rachel says.

Mike nods.

Rachel smiles and sits at the piano.

**…**

Tired of the treatment he gets during lunch, Finn hides in the bathroom. The second floor boys bathroom has very light traffic during lunch, she he hides in one of the two stalls and eats his lunch.

The smell is kinda hard to take. It's slowly killing his appetite. Still, he keeps eating because he doesn't know what else to do.

Some days he wishes he was smarter. He really wishes he could come up with a way to end all the harassment. But every idea he comes up with does no good. And now he's given them more ammo to laugh at.

Finishing his sandwich, he's no longer hungry. He looks at the rest of his lunch, but just drops them on the floor. Feeling pitiful, he leans his head against the stall wall and waits for lunch to end.

**…**

After glee, Tuesday, Rachel literally grabs Will before he exits the choir room.

"I don't think it's Coach Sylvester, Mr. Schue," Rachel tells him

"Why is that, Rachel?"

"Because she said it wasn't her."

"That's hardly a compelling reason," Will says.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel begins. "It's no secret that Coach Sylvester hates me less than she used to."

"True."

"I feel confident that it's not her. Because if it was, she would most likely relish in telling me about it," Rachel explains. "She knows there's nothing _I_ can do if she is."

"That's an interesting theory-"

"I think it's the prankster."

"What? How would-Why?"

Rachel half shrugs wishing she would think before she speaks. "I just do. It's the only thing that makes sense besides Coach Sylvester."

"I suppose that's true," Will mulls. "If it's not Sue, then he's the only other person who could pull it off."

Rachel fights back a bristle at the word, 'he'. She knows very few people think the prankster is female. She also wonders why she's blaming the prankster when she know full well it isn't her.

"Though I'm not sure if that's comforting or not," Will continues. "I mean, he's gone on for so long without being caught. What are the odds he'll stop with me anytime soon?"

"I guess it depends on the reason why he started."

"Yeah." Will sighs. "Well, thanks for the insight, Rachel."

"You're welcome, Mr. Schue. Break a leg."

**…**

"What's up with you?" Santana asks Rachel.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel counters.

"You're been weirdly quiet for far too long."

Rachel supposes that's true. They've been studying for almost an hour and she's barely said a word. It probably didn't help that she was so quiet on the drive over.

"I just don't feel like talking," Rachel replies.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why?"

"It's just you haven't been around too much lately," Santana pouts.

"Awww, I'm sorry, San," Rachel replies. "You've been busy too, you know."

"Yeah, well how come every time I see you lately, you're with Chang?"

"You mean that _one_ time last week when we walked out of glee together?"

"What about today during lunch?" Santana asks. "You were both in the choir room."

"So?"

"What am I supposed to think?"

"Nothing," Rachel replies. "I was practicing a song and he just wanted to be alone. So we were both in the room being alone together."

"That makes no sense."

"It's Mike," Rachel says. "He and I are friends. And we really only see each other at school."

"Yeah, okay," Santana says. "Just seems like the guy's around lately."

"Perhaps it's the slushie thing," Rachel replies. "People have been acting weird since I was slushied."

"Maybe."

**…**

Wednesday, Will doesn't know what to think anymore. He enters the school cautiously. Nothing happens. He enters his office warily. Still nothing happens. He checks his surrounds as best as he can before sitting at his desk. He begins planning his day, absently drinking his coffee.

About fifteen minutes later he hears a small twang like a spring has been released before the sound can completely register, he's covered in grape slushie.

Looking around he sees a small catapult. It has an enormous bucket attached to it that is still dripping grape flavor.

Growling to himself, Will finds his extra clothing and goes to the bathroom to change.

When he enters he's hit in the face with another slushie. Thankfully, it doesn't hit his spare set of clothes. Still, it's shocking. The double dose of cold stickiness is extremely unpleasant and he fights the urge to scream.

Instead, he wipes his face clean as best he can and goes into a stall to change.

**…**

Watching a irritated, ice covered Schuester stalk to the bathroom, Sue can only smile. If she gets to start out a majority of her days watching William Schuester be humiliated and annoyed, it's a good day.

She has to hand it to Lopez. Sue can't believe it never occurred to her to Sluhie William. Watching his apprehensive anticipation is delicious.

While she understand why Lopez turned down her offer of captain, Sue almost wishes she had accepted. She didn't expect her to, so at least she's not disappointed.

And really, to take it from Fabray might be considered harsh. After all the girl did work her way back up to the top. She earned her captaincy back so easily because her transformation was so quick. It seemed to Sue that one minute the blonde was onstage at Regionals, big as a house and then it was a new year and standing in front of her was pre baby Fabray, in shape and ready to be on top again.

Sue can admire that kind of dedication, especially when it benefits her. So she's glad to let Q keep her spot. But S needed to have her approval of her extracurricular activities. Perhaps with that encouragement, she'll keep it up.

**…**

Santana is having too much fun slushing Mr. Schue. She can see how frustrated he is by it. The variations in time and location are driving him crazy. Which, of course was her goal. She figures the long she does this, the less he'll be able to write off being slushied. Maybe he'll even eventually feel bad for not protecting people better.

But she doubts it.

She's going to keep it up. She probably won't continue doing it daily, but at least once or twice a week to keep him on his toes. The waiting and the not knowing is probably the worse part.

Santana's going to enjoy every moment of it.


	22. Everything's Different, But

**Title:** Everything's Different, but Nothing's Changed  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Rachel's dads, Mike, Quinn, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Felix Lopez, Marisa Lawson, slight Brittany/Quinn  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel's dads finally meet the girl dating their daughter.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~17,100  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.  
><strong><br>**

It's late on a Friday night and Puck is stretched out on the Berry couch, drunk and flipping channels. There's nothing really on this late, but he's not ready to go to bed yet.

Rachel, who is lying on top of him, shifts and yawns, waking up a bit. Glancing around, she notices the time.

"Noah, it's really rather late," she says. "You don't want to go to bed yet?"

"Don't feel like it."

"Are you still drunk?"

"Maybe," Puck replies.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Course."

"What's going on with Finn? Why won't you tell me what he did?"

"I think it's better if you don't know," he tells her.

"Well, will you at least put a stop to it?" she asks him.

"What? No way, he deserves it."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"Then you have to put a stop to it," Rachel tells him. "I'm assuming he did something horrible related to me. And while I really appreciate your trying to protect me, I think it's time to move on."

"C'mon, Rach," Puck whines. "You never let me have any fun."

"Noah Puckerman, that is a lie and you know it."

"Well, yeah. But still, just a little longer?"

"Noah," Rachel says. "If this is just your way of once again trying to make up for the previous years of abuse and mockery, it isn't necessary."

"I know."

"And while Finn proved far less stalwart and true than I first thought," Rachel continues. "He doesn't deserve this."

"Rachel, I love you like a sister I made out with a couple times-"

"Noah that's disgusting."

"But you're wrong."

"I'm Rachel Berry. I'm never wrong."

"Another week?" Puck pleads.

"Fine. But next Monday, you have to end it."

"Agreed."

**…**

Somehow Rachel manages to coax Puck out of bed early enough to eat something in the morning.

"Couldn't you just wait for your girlfriend?" he grouses.

"I'm sure she'll be here all too soon," Rachel replies. "I felt like making something and it's less enticing to do so for just myself."

"What are you making?"

"What do you feel like?"

"Waffles?" Puck asks a little too hopefully. Rachel is one of the few people he knows who actually owns and _uses_ a waffle iron. "As long as there's no vegan shit in 'em."

"Coming up."

He sips coffee and occasionally looks up to see her flittering around the kitchen. Mostly he keeps his head down on the table.

A bit later, a plate is forcibly set in front of him. The clatter makes him sit up. Once he's up, another empty plate is set down as well as silverware. He grabs two waffles, ignoring Rachel's reprimand about utensils and pours syrup over them.

"Awesome," he mumbles after taking a large bite.

A moment later Rachel sits down across from him with a coffee cup and a banana. As he continues to stuff his face, he watches Rachel select a waffle and carefully lay it on her plate. The banana is peeled and delicately sliced. The slices are then placed on the waffle. Meticulously she begins to cut and eat the waffle.

Puck just shakes his head at her.

**…**

"You made waffles?"

Both Puck and Rachel look up to find Santana standing in the kitchen doorway, practically drooling at the plate of waffles.

"Hell yeah she did," Puck says. "Better hurry before I decide I need a few more."

"Noah, you've already had four."

"Yeah. So?"

Santana sits and pulls the plate the last two waffles are sitting on to her. She pours syrup on them and begins eating.

"God, I really love you," Santana groans. "Thank god we have so much sex, otherwise I'd be two hundred pounds."

**…**

After Puck leaves, the day passes quickly but quietly. Both feel like they haven't seen each other enough over the last week.

For some reason Rachel's feeling rather domestic and so Santana keeps her company while she cleans. Santana offers to help, but is literally pushed into a chair and told to serenade Rachel. Santana balks, but eventually gives in when Rachel agrees to clean in just her underwear.

**…**

"So now what should we do?" Rachel asks Santana coyly.

"I don't know." Santana looks at the clock. "It's late. Maybe we should go to bed."

"Oh really?" Rachel looks around. "Well, we're already in bed."

"Hmmm," Santana replies. "I guess we'll have to find something else to do."

Rachel just grins and pulls Santana closer. They kiss leisurely knowing they have all night if they really want.

Letting her hands slip under the elastic of Rachel's shorts, Santana pulls her down onto her, groaning as Rachel's hands start to slide up her stomach. Slightly distracted as Rachel's hands teasingly glide under her breasts, she tries not to get sidetracked of her goal of removing Rachel's underwear.

Suddenly there's a knock and before it can register with either of them, Rachel's bedroom door swings open.

"Hey honey, we-"

"What the hell is going on?"

Rachel squeaks and yanks her hands out from under Santana's shirt. "Dad! Daddy! You're home. A day early." Still lying atop Santana, her head is turned slightly to face the intruders.

Santana tries to causally remove her hands from Rachel's ass. She doesn't think she's too successful as the two men's faces seem to become angrier.

Without Santana's arms holding her, Rachel sits up and turns to face her fathers. She sits between Santana's legs and pulls Santana's arms around her.

"You're not supposed to be home until tomorrow night."

"Yes, well we thought we'd cut our trip short," Rachel's daddy, Michael answers. "We thought we could spend the day together tomorrow before we go back to our long work days on Monday."

"Oh," Rachel replies meekly. "That sounds lovely."

"Yes, well we wanted to surprise you," Rachel's dad, Jake tells her.

"Goal achieved," Santana mutters.

"Not helping," Rachel whispers.

"I see we were quite successful," Michael comments dryly.

"Um, Santana these are my dads, Michael and Jake," Rachel says. "Daddy, dad, this is Santana. My girlfriend."

"I think they might have figured that part out, babe," Santana says. "Nice to meet you sirs."

"Nice to meet you, Santana, is it?" Joe asks.

"Yes sir," Santana nods.

"We're going to put our things away and take a minute," Jake says. "And then the four of us are going to talk in the kitchen."

"Of course, dad."

The two men, still frowning slowly back out of the room.

Once they're gone, Santana lets her head fall onto Rachel's shoulder. "This isn't good, is it?"

"Definitely not," Rachel agrees. "Just let me do all the talking."

"It is your forte."

**…**

When Rachel and Santana walk into the kitchen five minutes later, they're wearing slightly more clothing. They both agreed that it couldn't hurt. Rachel dug up the sweatpants that Puck usually wears when he sleep over while pulling on the hoodie Santana keeps around, just in case.

Rachel's dads are already seated at the table. Jake has a glass of Scotch in front of him while Michael has a beer. Sitting on the table in front of the two other seats are another beer, opened, but not touched and a large glass of water.

Santana looks questionably at Rachel, who pushes her to sit in the chair with beer while she takes the one with the glass of water.

"I thought it only fair," Jake says as Santana stares at the beer in front of her.

"It's okay, San," Rachel tells her.

"Why do you only get water?"

"Water makes me feel better," Rachel replies. "More so than alcohol ever could."

"All right."

"So," Michael starts. "How long has this been going on?"

"Months," Rachel answers succinctly, reaching out slightly and wrapping her fingers around Santana's.

"Months?" Jake asks. "How many?"

"Quite a few," Rachel tells him.

"Don't be glib," Jake replies. "It doesn't suit you."

"Long enough," Rachel says.

"And I suppose you've been carrying on like this for the entire time?" Michael asks.

Rachel nods.

"And you," Michael turns to Santana. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um…"

"Daddy, please be nice," Rachel says.

"Nice? Nice?" Michael's voice begins to rise. "I come home early to spend time with my daughter only to find her being violated by some girl I've never met, but have heard plenty of negative things about and you want me to be nice?"

"I did tell you I was seeing someone," Rachel points out.

"And you also implied it was causal," Jake replies. "And that's why we didn't need to meet this person."

Rachel shrugs. "It was at the time."

"A relationship update would have been nice," Jake continues.

"Because you're around so much to have that sort of discussion with," Rachel counters.

"Shit," Santana mutters under her breath.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy the liberties afforded to you because we work a lot," Michael says.

"Please tell me you're not trying to spin it that way father dearest," Rachel snaps.

"I don't need your attitude right now, young lady," Michael replies.

"Too bad," Rachel tells him. "You're going to experience it."

Michael stands, expression dark. "You're lucky your dad is here right now…"

Rachel stands as well. "You wouldn't dare…

"Maybe we should just revisit this discussion in the morning," Jake interjects, jumping up.

"Perhaps that would be a good idea," Rachel agrees.

"Fine," Michael huffs. "I could use a shower, anyway. It'll help clear my head. Santana, maybe it'd be better if you went home."

"I think not," Rachel says. "Look at the time. It's far too late."

Jake sighs. "Fine. She can stay, but she sleeps in the guest room."

"The guest room that's still filled with boxes and that no one can actually get into?" Rachel asks.

"The couch then."

"That couch doesn't allow one a proper night's rest," Rachel argues.

"Then what do you suggest?" Jake asks.

"My bed of course."

"And where will you be, young lady?" Michael asks.

"In my bed," Rachel answers.

Santana gulps at the expression on Michael's face.

"Absolutely not."

"She's not sleeping on the floor," Rachel counters.

"Fine," Jake huffs. "She can sleep in your bed. With you. But your door stays open all night, young lady."

"Of course."

Rachel grabs Santana's hand and practically drags her out of the room and up the stairs leaving her fathers to stare after them.

**…**

"Oh my god, ohmygod!" Santana exclaims as they enter Rachel's room.

"It's fine," Rachel assures her.

She unzips the hoodie and hangs it on her chair. She then pulls the sweatpants down Santana's legs, who steps out of them without really paying attention.

"How can you be so calm so quickly after you were so-"

"San," Rachel interrupts. "Get into bed and we'll talk about it, okay?"

Santana nods and crawls into bed as Rachel makes sure her door is wide open. She turns off the lights and slides into bed. Spooning, Rachel pulls Santana's arm around her.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Santana asks.

Rachel nods and then realizes her girlfriend can't see her. "It's definitely not good."

"How long were they on vacation?"

"It was a two month cruise," Rachel informs her.

"Jesus, they left you alone for two months?"

"San, how long have we been dating? When have you ever seen them?"

"I've heard them come home really late some nights," Santana answers.

"Daddy's law firm is far enough away that he spends some nights there," Rachel explains. "The back of his SUV is more like a small closet. Dad spends a lot of time on the road or on a plane. Once I was deemed old enough to take care of myself, they returned their focus to their careers. Because they've raised me with a similar sort of focus, they knew I would understand once I was old enough."

"And do you?"

"I don't think I'm old enough yet," Rachel replies, sniffling.

"Aw, babe," Santana says, tightening her grip and tangling their legs further.

"It's fine," Rachel tells her, trying to stop her tears. "I've mostly come to terms with it."

They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the muffled sounds of Rachel's father arguing and unpacking.

"They hate me," Santana mumbles.

Rachel doesn't answer.

"Oh my god, they really do, don't they?"

"Tomorrow morning is going to be very difficult," Rachel says.

"They know how I've treated you."

"Freshman year was particularly difficult for me," Rachel tells her. "As you might remember. There were several times I called them in tears."

"Rach, I really am sorry."

"I've already forgiven you."

"So they know how tough it was for you?"

"They do."

"Did they spend more time around the house then?"

"Daddy did for a while," Rachel replies. "But he was still working, so it's not as if I could talk to him. I even suggested once we watch TV together, thinking he could still work with it on in the background. And he did try. It only lasted five minutes though before he gave up and went back into the kitchen. After that, I told them I was fine. Daddy stopped coming home early from then on."

"Oh."

"I know you've been hurt that I haven't wanted you to meet them," Rachel says. "Especially after I pushed to meet yours. But there are good reasons. Which you're going to find out tomorrow."

"You're scaring me babe," Santana replies.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to. But it's the truth."

"Maybe I should go then," Santana says. "As soon as it's light out. I don't want to make things worse."

"No, absolutely not," Rachel replies. "That's what they want. And if it seems like they've managed to scare you off, I'll have a more difficult time convincing them we're in love."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"We'll sit down with them tomorrow and talk. The three of us will mostly do the talking I'm sure, but it's safer that way. Keep addressing them as sir that will definitely help."

"What about Mr. Berry?"

Rachel shakes her head, which Santana feels. "Actually since neither of their last names are Berry, that's probably not a good idea."

Santana actually sits up, half pulling Rachel with her. "What?"

Rachel pushes Santana back down and recurls into her. "They thought Rachel Berry sounded like a good stage name. Especially since their last names definitely aren't."

"What are they?"

"Michael Yellowhammer and Jake Racham."

"I guess those don't roll off the tongue too easily," Santana says. "So wait? They planned this from your birth?"

"No," Rachel replies. "When I started singing songs in full sentences at the age of two, they suddenly got stars in their eyes. My birth name is Rachel Barbra Yellowhammer-Rachman. But by the time I was three, they legally changed it."

"Holy shit."

"No one really remembers because it was so long ago," Rachel continues. "Also, people were a lot more concerned about two gay men raising a little girl. They put up with a lot of accusations until they hired a nanny. Then all of a sudden people thought I was safe because there was a woman around. People in this town are quite strange."

"I'm starting to feel like I don't know you at all," Santana comments.

"Please don't say that." Rachel sits up, pulling Santana with her. "You know plenty. I just never talked about this, with anyone, ever. I mean, how does a person even bring it up?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"I realize how insane this is," Rachel says. "It's very Lifetime movie like. If we can just get through tomorrow, I will answer any and all questions you have."

"You'd better," Santana grumbles. "Just thinking about facing your dads is giving me an ulcer.

"Don't worry. I'll definitely make it up to you."

**…**

When Santana wakes up the next morning, she can't believe she actually managed to fall asleep. The churning in her stomach is still there. Glancing over at the clock, tells her it's still early. She could sneak out if she really wanted. God, she really wants to. Rachel's daddy had been plenty angry last night, but Santana could tell that was just the tip of the iceberg. She really doesn't want to face him in the light of day; though at least she'll be wearing more clothing.

Still Rachel's probably right. If it looks like she's been scared off, how could they possibly believe she loves Rachel? Though two angry dads is a lot to face. She hates it when Brittany's right.

What she really wants is her papa, which she kind of hates, but she could really use some reassurance, maybe even a hug. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud, to anyone, ever.

"What are you thinking about?"

Rachel, who in the middle of the night apparently rolled onto Santana, is now looking up at her.

"Take a wild guess," Santana tells her.

"Yes, silly question, I suppose." Rachel sits up. "I'm going to make breakfast. Would you like to join me in the kitchen?"

"I suppose I better," Santana replies. "Though I'd much rather participate in another morning ritual we have."

"Tell me about it,' Rachel says. "If they weren't such early risers…" She shakes her head and crawls off Santana. "We'll figure something out."

Santana just nods, the apprehension growing.

**…**

Santana is sitting at the table, sipping coffee almost continuously because it's something for her hands to do, when Rachel's fathers come down the stairs thirty minutes later.

Rachel is flipping pancakes onto a plate and twirling around the kitchen like nothing's wrong.

"Morning dad. Daddy," she says when she turns to find them staring at her.

She knows they're surprised by her behavior. She's surprised too, but knowing it's going to end badly, she'd decided to try and enjoy the early morning quiet with her girlfriend.

"Morning sweetie," Jake says.

"You made pancakes," Michael observes.

"Yes, I thought a hardy breakfast would help this morning's discussion."

Rachel's dads pour themselves coffee while Rachel puts the pancakes and fruit on the table. They all sit down and dig into the food.

It's quiet for a while; just the sounds of utensils and food being eaten, but the tension that started the night before is still there. Still, there seems to be an unspoken rule that nothing be discussed until they're done eating.

Once they've all had their fill and it can't be avoid any longer, Rachel speaks up.

"I believe you had some concerns you wished to address with us."

Santana raises an eyebrow, but keeps silent.

"So you two are dating?" Jake asks.

"We're in love," Rachel tells him.

"And you've been seeing each other for months," Jake continues.

"We have."

"And this is who you were talking about when you mentioned you were seeing someone a while back?"

"It is."

"We have some serious and legitimate concerns, Rachel," Michael says.

"I realize that daddy," Rachel replies. "However, they're unfounded."

"You don't know what our concerns are yet," Jake comments.

"That does not matter," Rachel tells them. "I know they're unfounded."

"We'll ignore your smart mouth for a moment, young lady," Michael says. "First question, is how? How could you go out with someone who's treated you so badly?"

"I believe in forgiving people," Rachel replies. "Everyone deserves a second chance. Santana and I have had numerous discussions about our past interactions and I feel like the topic has been more than adequately dissected."

"How can you trust her?" Michael pushes. "I was here, baby, I saw how upset you were. What if she changes back?"

Santana bites her tongue because she knows her sarcasm won't be appreciated. But she finds it ironic that he's getting down on her for hurting Rachel when he's done plenty of hurting as well.

"_If_ that happens, and I emphasis the word if, then she and I will deal with it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Michael asks. "Are you saying you'd stay with her if she did?"

"I'm not saying anything except that if it happens, she and I will deal with it when it comes up."

"Are you really so desperate that you would stay with someone who-"

"Do not finish that sentence," Rachel warns, her expression suddenly darker than Santana has ever seen.

"Michael," Jake says. "Why don't we move on?"

"Fine."

Rachel knowing what's coming, groans.

"So you're gay now?" Michael asks.

"Perhaps," Rachel shrugs. "All I know is I love Santana. What else matters?"

"What about your fascination with the giant?" Michael asks. "That's suddenly just gone?"

"He lied to me for months," Rachel says. "Completely unacceptable."

"You can't be gay," Michael says.

Santana stares at him, her eyes wide.

Unperturbed, Rachel replies, "I didn't say I was."

"You cannot be gay," Michael repeats.

"Daddy, you don't really think that's still an issue," Rachel says.

"Until gays can marry and adopt freely, I do."

"Statically, I'm probably bisexual," Rachel tells them. "If that helps."

"It doesn't," Jake tells her.

"What is going on?" Santana whispers.

Knowing her fathers are staring and listening, Rachel leans over and whispers, "My dads are concerned about the whole gay parents producing gay kids angle. Which I suppose could be valid. I at least understand where their concerns stem from. However, just as they can't help being gay, I can't help how I feel about you. Unfortunately, you happen to be of the same sex. Sadly, they'd feel more at ease if they'd come back to find Noah pawing me."

"We definitely wouldn't," Jake protests. "That Puckerman boy is a menace. Remember how much trouble he caused at temple when he was younger?"

Rachel nods, an affectionate smile on her face. "It's been years. Besides, we were seven."

"You're not gay," Michael says.

"I believe I said I was bisexual," Rachel points out. "Besides, what I really am is in a committed relationship."

"I suppose you're out as well," Jake says.

"You've taught me to be proud of who I am," Rachel retorts.

"What the hell were we thinking?" Michael mumbles to himself.

"Just at school," Rachel continues. "We haven't had too many issues."

"Because you're dating the biggest bitch at McKinley," Michael says.

"Daddy, that was completely unnecessary. And uncalled for."

Michael crosses his arms. "Am I wrong?"

"That doesn't mean it has to be said," Rachel tells him.

"Sometimes, things need to be said."

"How serious of a relationship is this?" Jake asks.

"Serious enough," Rachel replies.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael asks.

"Would you prefer I score on a scale of one to ten?" Rachel questions.

Curious Jake asks, "What number would you give it?"

"A seven."

"That's far too serious for a high school relationship," Michael tells her.

"You'd prefer me to be more of a causal fling sort of gal?" Rachel asks. "Not be in a serious, committed relationship?"

"High school is for figuring things out, trying new things. Tying yourself down in a relationship for too long hinders that," Jake says.

"I've found someone I want to be with, why would I change that if I'm not ready to?" Rachel asks.

"I just don't understand why you want to tie yourself to someone like her," Michael says.

"Daddy, you're venturing into some very dangerous territory."

"She's a slut," Michael spits out.

"Just because she has a larger sexual history than I do, doesn't means she's a slut," Rachel tells him. "From the stories you've told me, you bedded plenty of people before you settled down. Why is there such a double standard about these things?"

"I don't want you two together," Michael says.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Rachel tells him. "Because we are. And we plan to stay together for a long time."

"What? Past high school?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You can't," Jake says.

"Why not?"

"You know why not."

"That is not a legitimate reason," Rachel says.

"It's a real concern," Michael replies.

"To you," Rachel snorts.

"What? You're okay staying here? Forever?" Michael asks.

"You live here," Rachel points out.

"You want to be like us?"

"Isn't a child supposed to want to emulate her parents?"

"Is that what this is about?" Jake questions.

"Of course not," Rachel replies.

"She's going to ruin you," Michael says.

Santana tries not to feel too insulted.

"She's not."

"She is," Michael insists. "She's going to convince you to stick around, go to some college local so the two of you can be together. And then suddenly you'll be thirty and still living in Ohio."

"Or Santana has ambitions as well that she hopes to pursue," Rachel counters. "Just because she doesn't monologue about what she wants to do like I do, doesn't mean she doesn't have goals."

"I'm sure she does honey," Jake says.

"Like sleeping with the whole hockey team," Michael comments.

"Daddy, stop being hurtful," Rachel chastises.

"Honest."

"Spiteful." Rachel stands up.

Candid." Michael stands up as well.

"Cruel."

"Why don't we take a breather?" Jake suggests. "Before we say something we don't mean."

"I don't believe we're at that point, yet, dad," Rachel says. "But we can if you like."

Jake turns to Santana. "You've been awfully quiet young lady. You have nothing to say?"

"I'm here for moral support," Santana replies. "I love Rachel. And I'm trying to make it up to her for all the horrible stuff I did in the past-"

"That's not necessary," Rachel interrupts.

"It is," Santana insists. "Because you deserve to be showered with love and affection."

"Well you certainly talk a good game," Michael says.

"Michael…"

"Daddy!"

"But I've heard that spiel before."

"I mean every word of it, sir," Santana tells him.

"I'm sure you do," Michael replies. "Until something comes along and changes."

"I know you think because we're only seventeen we can't be serious," Santana says. "But we are. We really are."

"Excuse me if I'm not reassured by your paltry teenage words," Michael replies. "All you're doing is drawing her eye, fooling her into believing you care and dragging her down, make her stay here when she should be out there, shinning."

"If you're so concerned, why do you keep her in this horrible place?" Santana asks. "Maybe she should have grown up in New York or at the very least Chicago. But Lima freaking Ohio?"

"Our reasons are none of your concern."

"Because if you'd really care you wouldn't have stayed here," Santana continues. "And let Rachel deal with the ramifications of being the daughter of two gay men. Do you know how much _shit_ she's had to deal with? And where have you been during it all?"

"And of course you didn't contribute to that harassment," Michael retorts. "Besides, I'm not taking parenting advice from a teenager."

"Considering what I've seen, maybe you should," Santana replies.

"How dare you?" Michael stands. "You do not get to come into my home, take advantage of my daughter and then criticize me as a parent."

Santana stands as well. "At least Rachel knows I love her. How's she supposed to know you do?"

Michael's hands curl into fists and Rachel stands.

"Stop," she says. "Both of you take a deep breath."

They do so, grudgingly.

"Good. Now sit."

Santana does. Looking defiant, she pulls Rachel down to sit on her lap. Seeing this, Michael nearly lunges at Santana, but is held back by Jake.

Rachel sighs. She's thoroughly charmed by how protective Santana is being. However, she knows the chance of her fathers accepting this relationship is diminishing quickly.

"Now perhaps we could attempt this again," Rachel says. "Calmly."

"There's nothing else to discuss," Santana says. "I love you. You love me. And I'm not going anywhere."

"However admirable that sounds," Michael replies. "Forgive me for not caring. I don't want my daughter dating you."

"I think that's been abundantly clear," Santana tells him. "Too bad I don't care what you want."

Michael stands again, this time knocking his chair over. It hits the floor with a loud clamor.

Santana just tightens her grip around Rachel.

Jake stands. He picks up the knocked over chair and makes Michael sit in it.

"I think we need to take a little break," Rachel says hopping off Santana's lap. "San and I are going up to my room. We'll reconvene in ten minutes, okay?"

Not waiting for an answer, Rachel pulls Santana up and drags her up to the bedroom.

**…**

This time the door to Rachel's bedroom is closed once they're inside. Santana then finds herself being pushed onto the bed and straddled. Her girlfriend crushes their lips together and Santana can feel the possessiveness Rachel is apparently feeling.

When they finally break apart to breath, Rachel sits up, pulling Santana with her. Still sitting on Santana's lap, Rachel wraps her legs around her waist.

"Uh, babe, not that I don't appreciate all this, but do you really think now is the time?"

"Things aren't going as well as I'd hoped," Rachel tells her. "I fear I may have to take another approach."

"Okay."

"I realize what I said last night, but I'm starting to think it'd be better if you did take off," Rachel continues.

"What? No way. I'm not leaving you alone to deal with all that anger," Santana protests.

"I appreciate that, San," Rachel replies. "But it might be better. With the direction this argument is going, I just think it'd be better if you weren't here."

"What does that mean? The direction the argument is going?"

Rachel sighs. "I'm fairly certain some rather hurtful words are going to be exchanged and I think it'd be better if you didn't hear them."

"You're worrying me, Rach."

"I apologize." Rachel leans in for a quick, but passionate kiss. "I don't mean to. But you know how families are. Things need to be said."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't support you."

"I just worry that your presence is raising daddy's anger level more than it would if you weren't."

"Well, yeah," Santana replies. "Because I'm not going to just sit there and let it degrade what we have."

"He means well," Rachel says. "I know it seems otherwise."

"He loses his temper kinda quick, don't you think?"

Rachel nods. "It's one of the reasons I try not to let my temper control me. Daddy is a good example of what happens."

"He's never hit you has he?"

"What? No. Of course not."

"Then what was that last night?" Santana asks. "The two of you standing, glaring, I was worried he was going to hit you. It certainly sounded like it."

"I'm sure it did," Rachel agrees. "Daddy is big on intimidation."

"I just don't feel right leaving you here with them."

"Santana, they're my fathers."

"You better come to dinner tonight, then," Santana says, sullenly.

"I'll do my best," Rachel tells her.

Santana's eyes narrow.

"It's fine, really," Rachel says. "Let's go downstairs and tell them you're leaving. And then I can walk you out."

"As long as you're sure."

Rachel nods. "I am."

**…**

They enter the kitchen, hand in hand. It's silent because Rachel was careful to stomp down the stairs and announce their entrance. Santana finds that odd.

"Dad. Daddy. Santana's going to go home now. I think it's better for your tempers and hers if she does so."

"Running away, are we?" Michael asks.

"Daddy."

"Hardly," Santana scoffs. "Rachel asked me to, so I am."

"I'm going to walk her to her car and then we'll finish our discussion," Rachel says.

Without waiting for a response, Rachel pushes Santana out of the kitchen and then out the front door.

**…**

It takes quite a bit of talking to convince Santana she'll be fine. Rachel promises to come over for dinner later and then watches Santana slowly drive away.

Back in the kitchen, she finds her fathers sitting at the table waiting for her. She sits down across from them.

"Managed to chase her off did we?" Michael taunted.

"Actually I'm not a hundred percent sure she's not just waiting around the corner," Rachel replied. "I know exactly what you're doing daddy and it won't work."

"You two are too much alike," Jake groans.

"Well she's gone just like you wanted, daddy," Rachel says. "So let's hear how you really feel."

"You are not dating that girl," Michael tells her. "She's not good enough for you."

"You don't even know her," Rachel protests.

"I don't have to know her," Michael replies. "I grew up with people like her."

"She's not racist."

"Why? Because she's Hispanic? Maybe. Maybe not, but she is homophobic."

"She only picked on me for being different, not because of my two gay dads," Rachel tells them. "Besides, isn't her dating a girl a sign she's not homophobic?"

"You really expect us to believe she only made fun of you because you're different?" Michael asks.

"Have you completely forgotten what high school is like?" Rachel questions. "All it takes is the most minute thing for people to make fun of you and blow it way out of proportion. Liking musicals too much is enough."

"We simply have some concerns," Jake interjects. "Because while yes, she's treating you with respect at the moment, what's to stop her from changing again?"

"And as I said previously, that will be dealt with if it happens," Rachel replies.

"You would really stay with her?" Jake asks.

"No, I would not," Rachel says. "I would try to get her to stop, but if she didn't, then I would end it."

"Even though you love her," Michael says.

"I love a lot of people that hurt me," Rachel tells him.

"What are you implying, young lady?" Michael growls, standing.

Rachel stands as well. "You're never around. You trust me to live my life properly. Why can't you trust me on this?"

"Trusting you to go to school is different."

"How?"

"Because you're immature, emotionally," Jake tells her.

"How am I supposed to grow without experiences?"

"So you're fine with the fact that she's going to break your heart?" Jake asks.

"Isn't that almost the definition of a high school relationship?" Rachel counters. "Besides, Finn already mightily wounded me. Where were you two then?"

"You never told us," Jake protests.

"I never liked that boy," Michael adds.

"But I survived, didn't I?"

"And ran right into the arms of another tormentor," Michael says.

"Not immediately," Rachel replies. "Besides, Santana treats me better than Finn ever did."

"You just think she's does," Michael tells her. "She's brain washed you. I saw where her hands were last night."

"Did you see where _mine_ were?"

Michael growls. "I don't like her pressuring you."

Rachel laughs. "She's definitely not pressuring me. _I_ initiated the sex. A long time ago."

"Oh hell," Jake mutters.

"What?" Michael is around the table and facing Rachel before she can even react. "Tell me you didn't give her your virginity."

"I didn't," Rachel replies. "Though I wish I had. At least then it would have been with someone I love and trust."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"We're getting off topic," Jake interrupts. "Michael come sit down."

Michael takes a deep breath and joins Jake on the other side of the table.

"You're right, of course, dad," Rachel says. "The bottom line is, I'm going to continue to date her."

"We still think she's going to hold you back," Jake says. "You were made for bigger and better things."

"So is she," Rachel replies. "You don't know her like I do."

"Aren't you a little biased, honey?" Jake asks.

"Of course I am," Rachel replies. "However, we'll all aware I'm still just as forthright with people I care about. My feelings rarely get in the way of that."

Remembering moments of her childhood, Jake nods. Michael just glares at her until Jake nudges him.

"Yeah. Yeah," he grumbles. "But how do we know you're not just seeing what you want to see?"

"I'll admit that's possible," Rachel allows. "However because I'm not the only one who believes this, I don't think it's so."

"Who? Her parents?"

"_No_."

"Who?"

"Whom," Rachel corrects. "Coach Sylvester for one."

"The insane cheerleading coach?" Michel asks. "How is she a good example?"

"Neither of you can deny she's a winner. And winners know other winners."

"Following the orders of an insane dictator doesn't make a person a winner," Michael says.

**…**

Santana is very tempted to simply wait around the corner. She still doesn't feel good about leaving Rachel alone. Despite all Rachel's reassurances, she's concerned. Rachel's daddy is a bit scary with all his intensity. Santana can definitely see where Rachel got hers from.

It's still pretty early for a Sunday, so Santana decides to head over to Brittany's instead of going home.

"San," Brittany greets when she answers the door. She then looks confused. "Why aren't you at Rachel's?"

"It's a long story," Santana replies.

"Oh." Brittany grabs her hand and drags her upstairs to her room.

**…**

They're still arguing and Rachel definitely has a headache.

"You're not going to date her anymore," Michael repeats.

"I am," Rachel replies calmly for the tenth time.

"We could ground you."

"You could," Rachel agrees. "Though how would you enforce it?"

"We can be around more," Jake says.

"I've heard that before, dad."

"You're treading into dangerous territory," Michael warns.

"You can't deem me responsible enough to look after myself and then not trust my judgment," Rachel tells them.

"Trusting you to go to school every day is completely different than your dating choices."

"Is it?"

"It is," Michael insists.

"Well I respectfully disagree."

"Almost every parent would have a problem with their daughter's girlfriend spending the night on a regular basis."

"Most parents wouldn't leave their teenage daughter home alone while they go on a two month cruise," Rachel counters.

"We did discuss it with you," Jake points out.

"Most parents wouldn't have even considered it," Rachel continues.

"We're far from traditional," Jake says.

"Why can't we just leave things as they were?" Rachel asks. "I've done nothing to lose the trust you've placed in me. I've never thrown a party. I do my homework and keep the house tidy."

"Having your girlfriend spend the night every week seems like a violation," Michael says.

"Santana and I love each other. It's only natural," Rachel replies. "And it's not even the sex."

Both Michael and Jake cringe.

"It's being able to spend time together," Rachel continues. "We hardly see each other during the week."

"You're in school together all day," Michael says. "And glee together."

"We're not in the same classes and glee isn't social time. She never really spends the night during the week. It's really only Saturday night. Why can't you just let me have this?"

Silence falls over the kitchen as the tension rising, but no one speaks.

Finally after a few moments, Jake says, "Honey, why don't you let your daddy and me talk about this alone?"

Rachel nods. "That sounds fine. I'm going to get dressed and then go out for a bit." She stands. "I won't be seeing Santana," Rachel adds, seeing the protest on her daddy's face.

"All right, honey," Jake says. "We'll call you a bit later?"

Rachel nods again and goes to her room to dress.

**…**

She ends up at Noah's. It's still kind of early, but she figures she can attempt one of his video games if he's still sleeping.

Mrs. Puckerman lets her in with a smile and they sit in the kitchen, chatting over tea for a bit before Rachel heads up to Noah's room. Rachel finds it fascinating that his mother would allow this, especially since her son has already gotten one girl pregnant. She supposes it speaks more to the trust Mrs. Puckerman has in her than in Noah. Though it probably helps that she doesn't know they dated for an entire week.

It's dark in Noah's room, but Rachel is able to find his TV and game system with little problem. She sorts through the games the best she can in the shadows. Knowing nothing about any of them, she picks one at random and puts it in. It asks her if she wants to start where she left off or start a whole new game. She choose a new game and saves it under_Berry_ before hitting start.

And then she's struggling to figure out what the hell she's supposed to be doing, pressing buttons until she knows how to jump, move, fire and fight. She knows she won't make it very far, but her determination is enough to keep her going. Besides, she wanted to be distracted and she definitely is.

**…**

Brittany is silent once Santana finishes telling her about the last twelve hours. Santana doesn't find this reassuring.

"Well?" Santana asks after too much quiet.

"Wow," Brittany murmurs.

"That's it?"

"What else can I say?" Brittany asks. "That totally sucks."

"Yeah."

"And Rachel's still there now? Arguing?"

Santana nods.

"Wow."

"What the hell is I supposed to do?"

Brittany shrugs. "You can't do anything until Rachel and her dads are done arguing."

"I hate waiting," Santana sulks.

"I know," Brittany nods. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah, why not."

**…**

"God damnit. Fuck. Fucking hell. Come on, you fucking asshole. Fucking move already. Fucking unbelievable. Fuck. Fucking come on, already."

Puck wakes up to a sound he never thought he'd hear. Rachel Berry cursing profusely while playing an Xbox game.

"What the fuck, Berry?" he groans. "Can you let a bro sleep in just _one_ day?"

She ignores him as an explosion occurs on screen. Puck groans again, rolling over and trying to block out the noise. Truthfully, the volume is extremely low and under other circumstances, he might not have woken up. But apparently the presence of an angry video game playing Rachel is enough to draw him out of his slumber.

He crawls out of bed and plops down on the floor to watch Rachel play. Finally he can't take it anymore and yanks the controller from her hand.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks. "Shouldn't you and Lopez be engaged in some morning muff diving?"

The fact that she ignores his crude remark, lets him know something big is wrong.

"My fathers came home last night."

"Oh."

"Yes and they walked in on Santana and I engaged in, uh, activities."

"Whoa, you mean the two of you were-"

"Thankfully, we were still mostly dressed," Rachel tells him. "However, as you can imagine, they weren't pleased."

"So what happened?"

"I convinced them to discuss it this morning. It didn't go well. They're at home right now discussing things," Rachel tells him. "I have a feeling I know what the answer is going to be."

"End it?"

"Exactly."

"Damn."

"Indeed."

**…**

Santana leaves Brittany's a few hours later. Her best friend can only distract her for so long and Santana starts to feel bad for making Brittany watch her pace.

Her papa yells a hello as she heads up to her room and she manages to yell back. Hopefully they'll leave her alone until she hears from Rachel. Driving back from Brittany's Santana had been very tempted to drive over to Rachel's, but she was afraid that would just make things worse.

So she's stuck waiting, which she hates.

**…**

Rachel receives a text from her fathers a couple hours later, demanding she return home. She's been watching Puck play_Portal 2_ for a long time now and is eager to hear their answer, even if she already knows what it is. The waiting has been driving her nuts.

"I'd wish you luck, bro," Puck says as she stands and stretches. "But I know that's useless."

Rachel nods.

"Just try to keep that temper of yours in check, Berry."

"I make no promises."

**…**

Her fathers are, of course, waiting for her in the kitchen. She wonders if they've even left the room since she took off hours ago. She goes to the fridge first and grabs a bottle of water before sitting at the table.

"You are going to stop dating her," Michael says.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act surprised, young lady," Michael continues. "You knew damn well that was what we were going to say."

"Perhaps I had hoped otherwise."

"We acknowledge that you'll still see her at school and in glee," Jake breaks in. "But outside of that, there will be no contact between you two."

"No offense, dad, but how are you going to stop me?" Rachel asks.

"We're going to be around a lot more," Jake tells her.

"Oh?"

"That's right," he answers. "I'm not going anywhere this week. I can work at home. And then starting next Monday your daddy will be home every night at six. He'll do that for two weeks and then I'll be around the next week."

Rachel just gapes at them. She can admit that she didn't expect that. Though she's a little hurt that they'd stick around to make sure she's staying away from Santana, but not when she's crying her eyes out. Her fathers' priorities seem to be a bit skewed.

"Fine," Rachel says. "If that's how you want it to be." She stands. "But I'm still going over to her house for dinner tonight."

"I'm not sure you understand how serious we are about this," Michael says.

"I do actually," Rachel replies. "But you must be insane if you think I'm not going to give her an explanation of why we can't see each other anymore."

"I don't care," Michael says. "You're not going over there."

"Or I could just leave," Rachel offers. "I could find somewhere else to stay."

"You wouldn't," Michael replies, standing.

"Wouldn't I?"

Jake stands and places a hand on Michael's shoulder. "It's a reasonable request."

"I'll be home by curfew," Rachel tells them. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room because I no longer wish to be in your presence."

**…**

Several hours later Rachel comes down the stairs. She finds her dad in the kitchen making dinner. She has a feeling her daddy went to the office.

"I'm going now."

"Curfew is nine-thirty," Jake reminds her.

Her answer is the slamming of the front door.

**…**

Santana is a little miffed that she hasn't heard from Rachel yet. It's been _hours_ and the suspense is killing her. She's been back from Brit's a couple hours now and she's running out of things to distract herself with.

The knock on her bedroom door will probably help.

"Yeah?"

The door swings open to reveal her girlfriend. She's got a dark look in her eyes, that Santana's seen only a few times. The door clicks shut behind her and she locks it.

Before Santana even knows what's going on, they're both naked and Rachel is teasingly running in hands up and down her thighs. She's not sure what's got into her girlfriend, but Santana's not complaining at the moment.

**…**

The afterglow doesn't feel as blissful as it normally does. Santana has a feeling that the discussion with Rachel's fathers didn't go so well.

"It went worse than I thought it would," Rachel says breaking the silence.

"Oh?"

"Yes," Rachel continues. "I'm not allowed to see you anymore."

"So? What are they going to do? Put a tracking device on you?"

"They claim they're actually going to be around," Rachel replies. "Dad's going to work from home this next week and then daddy will come home early next week."

"Seriously?"

"Apparently."

They lay in silence for a moment before Santana asks, "Why don't you seem more upset?"

"Because I have a plan, of course," Rachel replies.

"Thank god," Santana says. "I was afraid this was like good-bye sex."

"Certainly not," Rachel replies. "Though it's probably going to be a while before we have sex on a bed."

"That could be hot."

"Yes, I too am thankful we're already well versed with the quickies. Though I have the feeling I'm going to miss the marathon sessions very soon."

Santana groans. "You're such a fucking tease."

"What?" Rachel asks. "It's true. I thoroughly enjoy the slow, languid love making every Saturday night. It's a lovely contrast to the fast and furious orgasms we sneak in at school."

Santana kisses Rachel, in hopes of shutting her up. Looking over at the clock, she knows they better get dressed before her mother comes knocking at her door.

"I'm surprised she let you up here," Santana says pulling on her underwear.

"I find the pleading, doe eyes work very well," Rachel explains. "Plus, when I explain the situation later at dinner, it will further justify letting me up here to reconnect before our enforced hiatus from each other."

"You're so weird."

**…**

Despite the effort they put forth into covering it up, it's extremely obvious what they'd been doing when they come down the stairs. Santana fights a blush because the knowing grin on her father's face is downright embarrassing. She wonders what alternative universe she's fallen into that her father finds it endearing that his daughter just had sex in her room while her parents made dinner.

Rachel's helping put food on the table and chatting away with Clara, so Santana just sits at her place and sips her water until everyone's seated.

"So," Tomás says, eyes twinkling. "Is there any particular reason you came over early this evening Rachel? After all, you two were together a mere six hours ago."

"I'm glad you brought that up, Tomás," Rachel replies. "There's something I feel you should know."

"You better not have gotten her pregnant."

"_Papa_."

"Honey, let Rachel speak," Clara tells Tomás.

"Thank you. As you may remember, my fathers were previously unaware of my relationship with Santana. That changed last night. They returned early from a trip and found us in a bit of a compromising situation. Needless to say, they weren't pleased."

"Oh my," Clara murmurs.

"Just as I predicted, they did not react well to learning about our relationship. They are now demanding I end it."

A stunned silence falls over the table.

"Would you like us to speak to them, dear?" Clara asks.

"I'm not sure that would help," Rachel replies. "But thank you."

Santana watches both her parents wait for Rachel to continue. Hell, Santana is waiting for Rachel to continue. She knows her girl has a plan, though maybe she's not willing to share it with parental units.

"So that's it then?" Tomás asks finally. "You two are no longer dating?"

"Hardly," Rachel replies. "I have some ideas on how to reverse their opinion of the relationship. Unfortunately it will take some time, so most likely I won't be over for dinner for a while."

All three Lopezs are thrown off by how calm and causal Rachel is. Santana knows she should be used to it by now, having seen it before, but it's never been in relation to something as serious as their relationship.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," Rachel continues. "If Santana and I end our relationship it will be on our terms and no one else's. Not even my fathers will affect it."

Santana smiles and can't help but grab Rachel's hand. She doesn't let go until dinner is over.

**…**

After Rachel leaves, both Tomás and Clara sit Santana at the kitchen table for a talk.

"What exactly is going on?"

"Um, well like Rach said, her dads came home a day early and stumbled onto us, uh, you know and they were beyond pissed off. Rach got them to agree to sleep on it before we hashed it all out. But it didn't go so well. Finally Rachel had me leave so they could argue some more. I don't know what exactly happened except what she told you guys."

"You don't seem worried," Clara observes.

Santana shrugs. "If Rachel says she has a plan, then I just have to trust her. She won't let me down."

"Why are her dads so against the two of you seeing each other?" Tomás asks.

"Uh, well, cause of our history, mostly I guess. And they're worried about such a serious relationship in high school."

"I'm not sure they have the right to be so controlling when they're barely around," Clara says.

"Yeah, I think it's weird too," Santana agrees.

**…**

Rachel walks in the door of her house at exactly 9:29. She calls out good night and goes directly to her room. She has some planning to do.

Part Two

Monday morning, Rachel is at her locker when someone slaps her ass. Knowing it's not her girlfriend, she spins on her heel prepared to give the perpetrator a piece of her mind.

Only to find Noah grinning at her.

"Noah, that is not an appropriate greeting."

"Whatever. You totally owe me for waking me up early yesterday."

"I apologize for that, really I do," Rachel replies. "I was in a mood and figured video games would help. I did try not to wake you up."

"Then you probably should have tried a simpler game that didn't make you swear so much."

"As someone who rarely plays video games, I'm not sure such a game exists in your collection," Rachel tells him.

"Probably true. So how'd it go with the folks?"

"As expected," Rachel replies. "Starting today, my contact with one Santana Lopez is to be kept to a minimum."

"Judging by that devious look in your eye, the opposite is going to happen."

"I love my fathers," Rachel says. "But they lost the right to dictate my love life when they hypocritically told me I can't be gay. Also because they left me alone for two months while they went on a cruise."

"Yeah, I never understood your dads."

"The feeling's mutual I'm sure."

**…**

Santana and Rachel spend lunch in the second floor janitor's closet. Santana tries to entice Rachel to skip the next period, but she refuses.

"Because if we get caught, they'll have to call our parents. And that will put a kink in my plan."

"I know," Santana replies. "It's just the whole forbidden fruit thing."

"As if you need a reason," Rachel says.

"As if you need one either."

**…**

Monday evening finds Rachel alone in her room doing homework. Her dad is downstairs in the kitchen writing some kind of report. She had tried talking to him, but he had brushed her off. She had hoped that having them around more might mean actual time spent together, but apparently they are just her jailers.

In between homework, Rachel texts. She can't believe her dad didn't take her phone. Hell, if she really wanted to she could be Skyping with Santana. Her fathers definitely aren't up on technology; not that she's complaining.

Still she knows her dad could come up at any moment and she doesn't want him to hear her talking to anyone. Singing he would most likely ignore, being used to that coming out of her room.

She's trying to be as good as possible, so when she finally does do something, they won't be prepared. Rachel's sure she can lull them into compliance. Because while she knows they'll eventually tire of being her wardens, she's not sure she can wait that long.

**…**

Watching Finn get slammed into a locker, Puck is beginning to think maybe Rachel is right; he should really put a stop to it. He and Finn used to be friends before Hudson became a huge tool, maybe all this will bring back the awesome Finn he remembers.

He's still letting it go a little longer though. Finn's a bit slow on the up take and Puck figures the lesson will stick better the longer it goes on.

**…**

Tuesday after glee, they do it in Rachel's car. Rachel knows she's taking a big risk, her dad is expecting her, but she can't help it. Santana sang _Me Against the Music_ with Brittany in practice and it was the hottest thing Rachel had ever seen. Judging by the looks on the guys' faces, except Kurt; Rachel knows she's not the only one.

Laying there after, trying to catch their breaths, Santana looks at her watch and groans.

"You better go," she tells Rachel. "You're supposed to be home in five minutes."

"It's fine," Rachel replies. "I'll just tell dad I needed to talk to Mr. Schue for a moment. My fathers aren't aware of my adversarial relationship with him."

"Does that mean we can go another round?"

"Unfortunately not," Rachel says.

"This sucks."

"I'll text you later," Rachel says climbing out of the back seat.

"You better," Santana grumbles, slamming the car door shut.

**…**

Quinn is pretty sure she's getting over her crush on Rachel Berry. Otherwise, she wouldn't be hanging out with Brittany and Santana while the latter complains about her lack of Rachel time.

Apparently dating Rachel Berry is a drama fest induced nightmare, though not the way Quinn would have thought. Listening to Santana rant about Rachel's dads is giving her a headache. Who would have thought Berry's dads would be against their daughter dating girls. Though it might just be Santana specifically; Quinn can understand that.

After another ten minutes, Quinn can't take it anymore. "Shut up, Lopez. We get it already. You miss your damn girlfriend."

Santana looks hurt, but shuts up. Brittany just giggles.

"Thank god," Quinn mumbles returning to her homework.

**…**

Mike is pretty sure he's fallen into the twilight zone. Wednesday morning, he's at his locker getting his books for first period when Santana walks up to him.

"Chang."

"Lopez."

"I need a favor."

"All right."

"I need you to stick close to my girl," Santana says.

"Say what?"

"You heard me," Santana says. "There's some, uh, stuff going on, and I can't always be around her. So I need you to help keep an eye on her."

"Um, all right," Mike replies. "What about Puckerman?"

"He's helping too," Santana tells him. "But Rach likes you. And she could use a friend."

"Oh. Okay."

"Thanks."

And then Mike is alone at his locker again.

**…**

Wanting a distraction from Rachel's family drama and how it affects her, Santana sets up another slushie attack on Mr. Schue. She hopes for his sake, he still has a spare set of clothes.

She sets it up to happen at lunch. Maybe this way she can catch a glimpse of him running off the change and dripping grape slushie. That will definitely make her smile.

**…**

Rachel has lunch with Marisa in the auditorium again. She's not sure why the freshman insists they eat there instead of in the lunch room, but never one to turn down the opportunity to be onstage, even if it's just sitting and eating lunch, she agrees.

It's nice. Rachel doesn't have many friends. Technically all her friends are because of Santana, even if they're all in glee together. It's nice to have someone to talk to that she doesn't really have that much history with. They can just hang out and it's easy. Considering what's going on in her personal life, it's a breath of fresh air.

**…**

Wednesday, Rachel and Santana barely see each other. This makes their forced separation even more obvious and leaves Santana in a bad mood. She strolls down the hall scaring people out of her way with her expression alone.

Brittany does her best to cheer her up and manages to get a smile or two out of Santana, but it's not enough to last long. Freshmen are basically jumping out of Santana's way as she walks down the hall.

Not knowing what else to do, Santana takes all the frustration she's feeling and throws herself into Cheerios practice. That seems to be a good plan because Coach Sylvester actually compliments her.

"Not bad Lopez, you didn't actually suck today."

At least one good thing came out of the day.

**…**

Despite how long they've been dating, Rachel has yet to sext with Santana. There's just never been a need to. Phone sex, yes, but sexting, not so much. Rachel figures it's because she's so formal when she texts. Santana still gives her a hard time about it. It's not her fault that she takes things like spelling and grammar seriously.

But there's no way she wants to risk getting caught engaging in phone sex, so sexting it is. She figures the novelty of it will sustain them for a while.

**…**

"What's up bro?"

"Oh, hello, Noah."

Puck watches Rachel gather her books for the day.

"Why the long face, oh bro of mine?"

Rachel scowls at him. "You know damn well, why, Noah. Don't play dumb, you know I hate that."

"Sorry, Berry, just trying to distract you with my charm. Not in the mood, I see."

"I'm not handling the separation as well as I had hoped," Rachel replies.

"Sickening," Puck says.

"I know, right? I'm beginning to think daddy is right. We are a bit too attached."

"Don't say that," Puck replies. "I mean, yeah, you are. But it's not a bad thing."

"I'm not so sure. I mean, we see each other in school, have lunch together, have sex and text at night and yet it's not enough."

"When the hell do you have sex?"

"As if I'd tell you," Rachel retorts.

"I wouldn't spy," Puck tells her. "You're both scary as hell. If you're both mad at me I'd end up castrated, bald and repeating high school."

Rachel chuckles. "That sounds about right. But who'd shave your head?"

"You definitely."

Rachel thinks about it for a moment. "Most likely."

"Some bro you are," Puck grumbles.

**…**

Thursday during third period, Santana receives a text that causes her to almost drop her phone.

_I propose we skip glee and spend the afternoon in your room._

Santana can't believe Rachel wants to skip glee for sex. The vibration of her phone lets her know she has another text.

_It's not just about sex. I miss you. I want to see you for longer than five minutes._

God, how pathetic is it that Santana feels the same way. It hasn't even been a whole week yet.

_Me 2, babe.___

_Parking lot after school?_

_K_

**…**

Santana caught a ride from Quinn, so she jumps into Rachel's car and the pair speed off towards the Lopez residence.

"You're sure your parents aren't home?" Rachel asks, maneuvering the streets as Santana's hand trails up her thigh. "Stop that, you'll distract me from driving."

"They're not due home until five. And it's your fault for wearing such a short skirt."

"This is one of my longer ones," Rachel says turning onto Santana's street.

"You're such a liar," Santana chuckles letting her finger graze Rachel's underwear.

"San!" Rachel closes her thighs, trapping Santana's hand. "Stop it! We're almost there."

"My hand is where it needs to be," Santana teases. She moves her hand as much as she can, which is very little, but it's enough to cause Rachel to moan.

Thankfully, Rachel pulls into the Lopez driveway and slams her car into park. Turning it off, she's out of the car in a flash. Santana follows quickly and soon enough they're lips are locked together as they try to ascend the stairs without breaking the kiss.

**…**

Brittany drags Quinn over to her house after a very unproductive glee. Quinn is surprised that Santana was able to talk Rachel into skipping glee. Lopez must be even better than Quinn thought; which takes her mind somewhere she'd rather not go.

Thankfully, Brittany can be quite distracting. The blonde is bouncing around her room, being rather silly, even for Brittany. If Quinn didn't know better, she'd think her friend was trying to distract her. But distract her from what?

"Can I ask you something Quinn?"

"Of course, Britt."

"Can I kiss you?"

"What?"

"Can I kiss you?" Brittany repeats.

"Why?"

"Because you're sad," Brittany replies. "And I bet you'd be nice to kiss."

It's such Brittany logic, that Quinn finds herself nodding.

And suddenly she has a lap full of Brittany. Quinn, already sitting on the bed, finds herself being straddled and Brittany leaning in slowly. Despite the energy Quinn practically feels radiating off her, Brittany is gentle and unhurried, as if sudden movement might scare Quinn away. She acknowledges that this is a distinct possibility.

However, the softness seems to be working because when Brittany's tongue sweeps across Quinn's lips, she opens her mouth, letting their tongues meet. And then Quinn is lost. Brittany is an amazing kisser. Quinn supposes that kissing the whole school thing gave her ample time to perfect her technique.

**…**

"Sex on a bed," Santana says. "What a novel idea."

Rachel, who's curled into her side, smacks her on the stomach. "Don't make fun of me."

"Couldn't even wait a week," Santana continues. "I'm even better than I thought."

"At least I was able to wait until we got to your house," Rachel says. "You barely waited until we were out of the parking lot."

"It's those damn skirts, I told you."

"And those Cheerios uniforms aren't a huge tease?" Rachel asks. "What did Quinn used to say?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Santana pulls Rachel onto her. "So now what?"

"We could talk."

"You're such a girl."

"Shut up, you miss it too."

"So you going to let me in on your little plan?"

"I guess I really should," Rachel says. "It's rather simple actually. I'm going to wait them out."

"What? That's it?"

"San, they've been absent longer than they weren't. They shoved me into lessons and classes partly because they wanted me to be a star, but also because it allowed them to work more. My nanny was more like a chauffeur."

"Rach…"

"It's fine," Rachel says. "But this'll be just like freshman year. They mean well, but something more important will come along and they'll have to go do that."

"And so how long do we have to wait?"

Rachel shrugs. "I have no idea. But don't worry. I'm going to start sneaking out. I just needed to lull them into a false sense of security, so they'll be complainant."

"But next week it's your daddy's turn," Santana points out. "Won't you have to start all over?"

"That actually works in my favor," Rachel replies. "Dad will tell daddy that I've been singing or playing my music loudly and ignoring him. Daddy gets more distracted by his work than dad. So all I have to do is leave my computer on playing me singing and then a few musicals and he'll leave me alone."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yeah."

"So does that mean you can come over Saturday?" Santana asks. "Least for a while."

"What about your parents? Isn't there some sort of parent code that means they have to call mine?"

"Possibly. We just won't tell them."

"San, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Yeah, they might ground me, but we'll figure something out," Santana replies. "Besides, they like you. More than they like me, I think."

"Least someone's parents do."

Santana tightens her arms around Rachel, trying to pull her closer. "Mom said you could be an honorary Lopez if you really want."

"Rachel Lopez. Sounds all right. I can handle that."

"No hyphen?"

"Nope. Just Lopez."

This gives Santana a warm fuzzy feeling all over. She grins widely. "Damn straight."

"Love you too," Rachel mumbles, snuggling into Santana.

**…**

Rachel is technically three minutes late, but her dad doesn't seem to notice. Or at least he doesn't say anything. Rachel heads up to her room and slams the door behind her.

**…**

When Quinn leaves Brittany house, she's been thoroughly kissed. The blonde never pushed beyond that and it was a lovely couple hours spent stretched out on the bed, because after a while, Brittany had pushed Quinn onto the bed and flipped their positions. Grateful for this small measure of control, Quinn kissed back more fiercely, hoping her friend understands her appreciation. The little moans and gasps tell Quinn that Brittany understands and they spend another ninety minutes in that position.

**…**

Mike still isn't sure what possessed him to visit Rachel, but he's sitting in the Berry driveway, so he figures he better knock soon before he starts to look creepy.

He rings the bell and waits. A moment later, a man a bit shorter than him in glasses answers the door.

"Um, hi, my name's Mike. Is Rachel home?"

"She is. How do you know my daughter?"

"We're in glee together, Mr. Berry," Mike says. "I was hoping she could help me with this song we're doing. I was going to ask her after glee today, but she took off before I could."

"Come on in, Mike."

"Thanks."

**…**

There's a knock on her door. "Rachel? Rachel, honey, there's someone here to see you."

Rachel can't imagine who could be there to see her that her dad would actually bring up the stairs. Cautiously she opens the door.

"A friend from glee stopped by," Jake says.

"Hey Rach."

"Mike," Rachel exclaims. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping you could help me with my singing," Mike replies.

"Um, all right," Rachel says looking at her dad. He nods, a huge grin spread across his face. "Come on in. We'll figure it out."

Mike enters. "Thanks."

Then to both their surprises, Jake closes the door behind him.

"Rather trusting isn't he?" Mike asks.

"It's a long and ridiculous story," Rachel replies.

"Isn't it usually with you?" Mike teases.

**…**

"So wait a minute," Mike says. "That's why Santana asked me to keep an eye on you?"

"I suppose so," Rachel replies. "Keep an eye on me. Really? It makes me sound like a naughty child."

"Well that's not exactly what she said," Mike tells her. "I don't remember exactly."

"But she told you to visit me?"

"Nah, that's just something I decided randomly," Mike replies. "Still not sure why, actually."

"It is rather strange."

"Should I start singing?" Mike asks. "Isn't your dad going get suspicious?"

"He'll probably just think we're making out," Rachel replies.

Now Mike looks a little nervous. "How is that better?"

"Anyone that distracts me from Santana is good," Rachel tells him. "They're really not fond of her."

"Apparently."

"So? Want to watch a movie?"

**…**

Friday morning Santana is walking to her locker when she's yanked into a janitor's closet.

"Hey babe," Santana grins.

"Morning tiger," Rachel replies.

"You're awfully giddy. Glad it's Friday?"

"Actually I had a really nice evening last night," Rachel says.

"Oh? You and your dad actually talk?"

"Ha, as if. Actually no, I had a visitor."

"Brit stop by?" Santana asks.

"Mike actually."

"Chang?"

"Mike, yes," Rachel replies. "Dad let him hang out in my room with the door closed. So we watched a movie. It was nice."

"Your dad let a boy hang out with his only daughter in her bedroom with the door closed?"

"I know. Mike found it strange too."

"They really don't like me, do they?"

"It's the situation, San, not you," Rachel replies.

"And you're sure you can change their minds?"

Rachel nods. "I promise." Rachel pulls Santana in for a kiss. "Now can we please move onto more pleasant topics?"

**…**

Rachel is gathering her things at the end of the day when Brittany bounces up to her.

"Hi Rach!"

"Oh hello Brittany."

"Are you ungrounded yet?"

"No not yet," Rachel replies.

"Too bad," Brittany says. "So are you and San still going to hang out tomorrow?"

"I'm working on it."

"Yay," Brittany claps. "That means S won't be all sad tonight when we hang out."

"I hope not." Rachel closes her locker. "You know, you could stop by for a visit too."

"Really? I thought you were grounded."

Rachel nods. "I am, but I can have visitors as long as they're not Santana."

"Okay. Sounds like fun."

**…**

"Dad," Rachel says as she walks into the kitchen Friday night.

"Yes honey?"

"I assume I'm not allowed to go out?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Jake replies. "I just don't trust that you'd stay away from that _girl_."

"Well, it's just that I usually hang out with Noah on Fridays. Can he come over if I can't go out with him?"

"Noah Puckerman? Just the two of you?"

"He's my best friend," Rachel replies.

"You're kidding," Jake says.

"I swear I'm not."

"All right, but you'll stay in the living room," Jake tells her.

"Of course dad. I'll just go call him now."

**…**

"Unbelievable," Puck says as he settles on the couch. "I mean, first Chang yesterday and now me. They really want you to date guys, don't they?"

"I think he's just glad that I'm distracted. Maybe I'll change my mind about Santana. As if we haven't been dating for almost a year, as if I'm that fickle."

"Well you kind of were," Puck replies. "I mean, you had a crush on Mr. Schue."

"It's not my fault," Rachel protests. "You know I find musical compatibility to be extremely attached. Besides, that was before he showed his true colors."

"Whatever," Puck says. "Just drink this and be quiet." He hands her a bottle of pineapple juice. "And I must say, I'm impressed with your delinquency."

"It seemed unfair to expect you to spend your Friday night sober."

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me bro," Puck says.

"I know my audience."

"Except, you're not going to let me drive, are you?" Puck asks.

"I've got it covered."

**…**

Hours later Rachel is gently woken by her dad. Glancing at the time, she see it's quite late and that the two of them have fallen asleep.

"It's too late for Noah to drive, dad," Rachel says.

Jake grimaces, but nods. "He can stay."

"Thanks dad."

Jake nods again and heads upstairs to bed.

"Noah," Rachel says quietly. "Noah. Wake up."

"What?" Puck groans.

"It's time for bed," Rachel replies. "Come on."

Puck lets Rachel pull him up to her room. He changes while she goes to the bathroom. He then crawls into her bed as usual.

Rachel returns, turns off the lights and crawls into bed as well.

"Your dad said this was okay?" Puck asks.

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "He only said you could stay. He just assumed you'd sleep on the couch, though I don't know why since I've made my thoughts on that couch's comfortableness quite known."

"You just want to fuck with them," Puck grins.

"Of course. If they want me to be straight, let's see how they react to the two of us in bed together."

"Seems kind of mean, doesn't it."

"Well if they come in without knocking, it's their own damn fault," Rachel whispers.

"Whoa, when'd you become a bitchy drunk?"

"They don't get to ignore me for years and then swoop in and pretend to be parents suddenly," Rachel tells him.

"Remind me to not get on your bad side," Puck mutters, settling in.

"You already knew that, Noah," Rachel reminds him. "But I suppose a refresher never hurts."

**…**

Rachel is awoken by a loud banging on her door. Checking the time tells her it's too early to be awake. The sun isn't even up yet. Before Rachel can decide what to do next the door swings open.

Standing in the doorway is Rachel's daddy looking very irate.

"What the fuck is going on?" he growls.

"I'm trying to sleep, daddy," Rachel replies. "It's only four in the morning. And I usually sleep in on Saturdays."

Puck shifts slightly, jarring Rachel who he is spooning.

"And the _boy_ in your bed?"

"We're sleeping, daddy."

"What would make you think we'd be fine with a teenager father sleeping in the same bed as you?"

"I don't see why not," Rachel replies, wiggling out of Puck's embrace and sitting up. She blinks at the harshness of the hallway light streaming into the room, slightly surprised that Puck hasn't woken up. "We're not having sex."

"He's a teenage boy, Rachel," Michael says. "And a delinquent."

"I know he's teenage boy, daddy," Rachel replies. "Being that I'm a teenage girl."

"What happened that you've started associating with such negative influences?"

"I wouldn't call Noah or Santana negative influences."

"Stop playing dumb Rachel," Michael tells her. "We both know better."

"You said you wanted me to be straight, daddy," Rachel replies. "So technically, this should be perfectly acceptable."

"You're playing a dangerous game little girl."

"I don't know what you're talking about daddy."

"We'll be talking in the morning," Michael says before closing the door.

**…**

Waking up hours later, Rachel knows her daddy is right; she is playing a dangerous game. It is in fact not exactly the plan she had originally, but the past week has been more difficult than she thought it would be and she's impatient for things to return to normal.

It's fairly early for a Saturday and she hates to do it Noah, but she has to wake up him. An ugly confrontation is inevitable and Rachel would rather Noah not be around to hear it.

It takes a lot of effort and the promise of buying him breakfast Monday morning, but Noah does get up and Rachel helps him sneak out.

"I expect this bullshit to be fixed by next weekend, bro," Puck says climbing into his truck. "Saturdays are a day of rest for the Puckster."

"I know, Noah," Rachel replies. "I am sorry."

"Yeah. Yeah. You're lucky I like you."

**…**

When her fathers enter the kitchen, they find her sitting at the table sipping her morning coffee.

They pour themselves a mug and sit across from her.

"No breakfast?" Jake asks.

"I thought it best if we cut right to the chase," Rachel replies.

"I agree," Michael says.

"I don't believe you're being fair," Rachel begins.

"We're your fathers," Michael replies. "Of course you're going to feel that way. That's your job as a teenager."

"I suppose that's true," Rachel allows. "However, please see it from my point of view. You've trusted me to look after myself for several years now. Your sudden about face is rather abrupt and in my eyes, a bit insulting."

"Because we don't approve of who you're dating?" Jake asks. "That is an area that fathers and daughters will always disagree."

"Whom," Rachel corrects. "And I realize that's true. However, when I mentioned I was dating someone neither of you commented beyond acknowledgement. Nor did you demand to meet said person. Therefore you can imagine my surprise that you suddenly seem to care."

"Because we caught you in a compromising position," Jake replies.

"So as long as you see no evidence of relationship, it's fine?" Rachel questions. "And only if it's not thrown in your face? Because I'm sure Santana's been over when you've arrived home late at night and yet, you showed no concern."

"Because we didn't know," Michael protests.

"The same car always parked in front of our house wasn't a clue?"

"Forgive me for not being extremely observant when I come home from a long day of work," Michael says. "Are you admitting you've been taking advantage of our trust?"

"I've been living my life," Rachel replies. "Foolishly I assumed you'd be pleased that I have friends, a social life. I know that's been a concern of yours for quite a while now."

"Of course we're pleased about that, honey," Jake says. "It's just the individuals you've chosen don't have the best track records."

"No one's perfect, dad."

"Noah was careless enough to get a girl pregnant," Michael says. "That's more than a slip up."

"I agree," Rachel says. "However, it was dealt with and a lesson was learned. Besides, Noah and I are definitely _not_having sex."

"But you share a bed with him?" Jake questions.

"He's my best friend, dad."

"Which is why we question your choices," Jake replies.

"Because once a person makes a mistake, they can never be trusted again," Rachel says. "He's a teenage boy as you've pointed out numerous times. He's bound to do something stupid, especially if it involves sex. It's inevitable. Perhaps not to that extreme, but nonetheless."

"Of course people are allowed to make mistakes."

"And if I remember correctly," Rachel continues. "You, daddy, as a closeted teenager had a pregnancy scare yourself. The only difference was that you were lucky enough for a false positive from the home pregnancy test. It could have easily gone that way for Noah as well."

Michael groans. "Why do you tell her things?" he asks Jake.

"You told her that story," Jake reminds her.

"When I was twelve to warn me away from a similar experience. You also put me on birth control when I was fourteen," Rachel adds. "Therefore I'm finding this whole experience rife with double standards."

"I think," Jake begins. "We're having more difficulty with you being sexually active than we thought we would."

"That is understandable," Rachel allows. "However, I also feel that your issues are specifically related to Santana and I'm curious why."

"She was so cruel to you," Michael says. "How can you so easily forgive her?"

"I don't believe in holding grudges," Rachel replies. "We worked through it and ever since she's been wonderful to me."

"And her reputation?" Michael questions. "How do you know she's not messing around behind your back?"

"Because I trust her," Rachel replies. "And not to bring up an unpleasant topic, but Santana has no complaints in the sex department."

"We didn't need to hear that," Jake says.

"Well it's how I know," Rachel shrugs.

"So you don't know for sure," Michael presses.

"I don't have a tracker device on her," Rachel replies. "So of course I don't have definitive proof. But isn't that what a relationship is? Trust? Santana hasn't given me a reason to doubt her."

"That you know of," Michael mutters.

Rachel sighs. "I feel like we've been here before."

"I recognize that tree," Jake quips.

"I suppose you're right."

"So now what?" Rachel asks.

"We're your fathers," Jake says. "Our word is law."

"What if you're wrong?"

"We're not."

"But what if you are?" Rachel pushes.

"You're not going to change our minds," Michael replies.

"I could say the same thing."

Michael sighs. "We're not getting anywhere. Maybe we should discuss this again tomorrow."

"That sounds all right to me," Jake says.

"I suppose," Rachel adds. "I don't see what will change in twenty-four hours, but all right."

Grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, Rachel heads back up to her room.

**…**

In her room, Rachel contemplates her opinions. She'd told Santana she has a plan, which isn't exactly true. She has a couple ideas, but nothing concrete. She didn't want to decide for sure until she knew what the situation is.

Well now she does and it's not good.

Rachel curses her own impatience. She wants things back to normal as soon as possible and so she pushed sooner than she had planned. She knows this could really work in her favor.

Or it could backfire and her fathers might send her away to boarding school.

As absurd as it sounds, Rachel knows it's a possibility. There are several that have excellent fine arts programs her fathers approve of. Even though it hasn't been brought up, all three of them are aware of the brochures laying on her daddy's nightstand.

So the question is, does she push more or back off and let everyone breathe.

**…**

Being Rachel Berry, she decides to push. Though she knows it's a bit perilous, she feels like pushing while tempers are short will work in her favor. She begins to put the next step in motion.

**…**

"I just don't understand what we did wrong," Jake says, pacing.

Stretched out on the bed, Michael watches him. He's still just as tense, but is finding Jake's pacing calming.

The day has been stressful. Rachel spent the whole day in her room either singing ballads full of longing or listening to musicals at full volume. When Michael knocked on her door, Rachel just snapped she was done and going to bed. Even though it was only six.

"We've raised a very stubborn, obstinate child," Michael replies.

"I would have categorized her as tenacious," Jake says.

"It's that _girl_," Michael growls. "She's a horrible influence on our Rachel."

"I can't believe she actually let that Puckerman boy in bed with her," Jake says. "She probably got an STD from just being around him."

"Perhaps we didn't give her enough guidance," Michael muses.

"She was always so independent," Jake adds. "Some days it didn't seem like she needed it."

Michael nods.

"I'm beginning to think we don't know our little girl at all," Jake continues.

"She's a teenager," Michael points out. "Isn't that how all parents feel?"

"I suppose," Jake allows. "But this feels different."

"Different than what?" Michael asks. "We only have one child. What could we compare this to?"

"Our own teenage years?" Jake suggests.

"I'd rather not go there," Michael says, darkly. "Some things are best left alone."

Jake stops his pacing and joins Michael on the bed. Still tense, they their hands find each other, but otherwise, each is in his own head.

"Are we doing the right thing?" Jake asks after an extended silence.

"I don't know," Michael answers. "We're trying to protect her."

"She is right," Jake points out. "We aren't around a great deal."

"She's never complai-ned before," Michael replies. "Though I suppose lately it's because she's busying associating with questionable kids."

"I've always admired her loyalty," Jake muses. "I'm not sure we're ever going to convince her of her bad choices."

"We'll think of something."

**…**

Santana's been waiting to hear from Rachel for almost an hour when her phone beeps.

_Open your bedroom window, please._

Santana, curious, does so.

Only to find her girlfriend outside her second floor window, hanging onto a ladder.

"Please help me in," Rachel mutters.

Santana shakes her head and pulls Rachel inside.

"Like many things, that looks so much easier in the movies."

"Because those people aren't midgets," Santana teases.

"Santana Lopez, how many times have I told you not to refer to me in that manner?"

Santana's answer is the gather Rachel up off the floor and fall onto the bed with her.

"I've missed you too," Rachel says into Santana's shoulder where her face is pressed.

"It was so weird not to see you all day," Santana replies.

"For me as well," Rachel says. "But fear not. I'm staying the night."

"You can't be serious."

"I'll just sneak back into my room early tomorrow," Rachel replies. "I doubt they'll even notice."

"You sure?" Santana asks. "It's still pretty early, babe."

"I realize that," Rachel answers. "But I spent the whole day being quite loud, either singing or playing music. I'm betting that they'll be so glad it's quiet, that they'll leave me be for a while. I'm sure like me, they're getting tired of the confrontations."

"How many confrontations have you had?"

"Three," Rachel says. "But that's the most we've ever had."

"Yeah, well it helps when they're never around," Santana mutters.

Rachel nods. "It does indeed."

"But now that I've got you here, whatever should we do?"

"What about your parents?"

"It's fine," Santana replies. "I've been moping all week, so they've been leaving me alone. As long as we're not too loud, we'll be fine."

"Moping?"

"Shut up," Santana grumbles. "I miss my girlfriend."

"I love you too."

**…**

The next morning as Rachel is climbing back into her room, she tries to be as quiet as possible. It's later than she intended to get back. She never should have given into Santana, but morning sex is basically instinct to them. As long as Santana never refers to herself as a sex shark, Rachel is willing to indulge almost anything.

However when her feet are firmly planted on her carpet, Rachel is shocked to find her dad and daddy waiting for her.

"Hi," she gulps. Because even though she wanted to push, the expressions on their faces are rather intimidating.

"We need to talk young lady," Michael says. "Kitchen. Ten minutes."

Rachel nods.

**…**

When Rachel arrives in the kitchen, she makes coffee. While she's adding the water, she hears her fathers enter. They wordlessly grab coffee mugs and wait for the coffee to brew.

Michael fills three mugs. Jake adds creamer to his, while Michael drinks it black. Rachel adds brown rice syrup. Splenda might be vegan, but the chemicals in it make her cringe just to think about.

They all sit at the table and sip their beverages. All three of them know a massive argument is coming and no one is looking forward to starting it.

Finally Rachel can't take it anymore. "We may as well start it. And get it over with."

"Things will never be the same with us," Jake says.

"They're already heading in that direction, dad," Rachel replies.

Knowing she's right, Jake nods.

"If you two are done chit chatting," Michael interrupts. "I'd like to start."

"Of course, darling," Jake says.

"What the hell were you thinking? Sneaking out like that?" Michael asks Rachel.

"I was thinking I miss my girlfriend," Rachel replies.

"_That's_ your defense?"

"It's the truth," Rachel tells him.

"You know that's not a good enough reason," Jake says.

"It is to me."

"What is it about that girl?" Michael asks. "What kind of draw does she have over you?"

Rachel tries to give the question serious thought; because it is a justifiable inquiry. Very few people would have predicted they'd last this long, herself included. Finally, she just shrugs. "I don't know. We just work. I'll be one of the first to admit we shouldn't; I can think of at least a dozen reasons without even trying. But we just do. I stopped fighting it a long time ago, daddy."

"You just do?"

"I realize how inadequate of an explanation that is. But that's legitimately how I feel."

Michael stands, looking extremely frustrated. He begins to pace around the kitchen.

"The problem is, honey," Jake says. "There's nothing in that statement we can argue."

"I understand that, but-"

"It's teenager logic," Jake continues. "Meaning we'll never get anywhere if there's nothing to debate."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say dad," Rachel answers. "You want me to list the reasons I love Santana? Because I can do that. One, she's a romantic, but only shows it to a few people. Two, she stopped the slushies at school. Three, she understands that my attitude and ego are defensive mechanisms, just as I understand bitchiness and mockery are hers. Four, when we're being intimate, she-"

"Okay, we get the picture," Michael interrupts.

"I realize you have concerns," Rachel says. "And I'll admit they're valid. However, if you really knew her and saw us together, you might understand."

"So what? We're supposed to invite her over to dinner, all sit down, have a nice chat and then suddenly everything with be okay?" Michael asks.

"Ideally."

"If we did that," Jake starts, shushing Michael when he tries to interrupt. "And we decided then she's not good enough for you, would you end it?"

"Certainly not."

Jake sighs as Michael growls.

"Then what would be the point of this little meet and greet," Michael asks.

"As the person I'm dating, I thought you'd like to get to know her better," Rachel answers. "Why is this so difficult for you?"

"Maybe because the boys you've brought home before were definitely not catches," Jake answers. "And yet you insisted it would be all right."

"And where did that leave you?" Michael breaks in. "Heartbroken. We're just trying to protect me."

"I'm fine," Rachel answers. "I realize my past romantic endeavors hardly give credence to this, but I've learned from my mistakes."

"Fine," Michael says. "Just because I'm your father, doesn't mean I know anything. If you're fine with her dragging you down and breaking your heart, so be it."

"Daddy."

"But I don't want to hear or see the consequences. If you're so sure you're an adult, then you can deal with it yourself."

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh?" Jake asks.

"You heard her. She knows better than us. She's learned so much in her mere seventeen years that she doesn't need any advice from our life experience."

"Daddy."

"It's too late, Rachel," Michael says. "If you're willing to go to such lengths to see that girl, then who am I to get in your way?"

"You raised me to be this way," Rachel snaps. "So maybe you shouldn't be so bitter about the results."

SLAP

"Michael!" Jake exclaims.

The other two ignore him. Rachel's hand instinctively goes to her cheek while she glares back at Michael. She can see the regret in his eye, but he doesn't try to take back his actions.

"I see," Rachel says quietly. "I'm sorry you feel that way, daddy."

"I could say the same about you," Michael replies.

"Don't be like this, you two," Jake says. "Between the three of us, we should be able to come up with a compromise."

"I don't think so, Jake," Michael says. "Rachel's asserting her independence and we have to respect that."

"Wait. What?"

"I am sorry, honey," Michael tells Rachel. "I wish things were different."

"I do too, daddy," Rachel replies.

**…**

"Okay, so what just happened, down there?" Jake asks Michael after they retreat to their bedroom to talk.

"We've left her to grow up on her own," Michael replies. "I foolishly thought that us being her fathers would be enough for that not to matter. I was wrong."

"You're just tired of butting heads with her," Jake points out.

"I am," Michael admits. "She and I are too alike, it would have been an eternal stalemate."

"So?"

"It's exhausting," Michael says. "And most likely futile."

"We're her fathers."

"She doesn't see it that way," Michael replies. "Our attempts at a career and creating a Broadway star have backfired on us. She no longer sees us as legitimate parental figures."

"She's been telling us for years that it was fine," Jake protests.

"Would we have changed things if she had said otherwise?" Michael questions.

"Of course we would have," Jake replies. "She's our little girl. I would have no problem-"

"Jake," Michael interrupts. "Think before you speak. Would you have done things differently?"

Jake sighs and thinks for a moment. "No," he says finally.

Michael looks triumphant. Well, triumphant, yet remorseful.

"So we just return to our normal routine and pretend not to see things?"

"I welcome your alternative suggestion."

Jake just sighs again.

**…**

In the bathroom, Rachel examines her cheek. There is a distinctly large red handprint visible. Touching it makes her cringe slightly which means it's going to noticeable for days. She sighs. Thank god she's well versed in stage make up; she'll be able to cover it easily. She only hopes Santana won't take it the wrong way.

In her room, she texts Santana that she'll be at her house for Sunday dinner. Just as she's hitting send, her phone rings. It isn't her girlfriend, but instead Marisa wondering if Rachel wants to hang out. Looking at the time, tells her it's still morning, so she agrees.

Before she leaves, she receives confirmation from Santana that the Lopezs' are expecting her at 6:30. She grabs her things, calls out to her fathers that she's going out and bounds down the stairs.

**…**

At exactly 6:27, Rachel is ringing the Lopez doorbell. The door is answered quickly, but to her surprise it isn't Santana, but Felix that opens the door.

"Hey little sister," he greets.

"Hello Felix," Rachel replies, stepping inside. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Well when I heard you and baby sis were having trouble, I thought I better stop by and offer my assistance."

"You mean drop in, get some free food and then mock me mercilessly," Santana interrupts.

Rachel smirks as she pulls Santana into her for a hug.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Felix grins.

"You're lucky Rachel likes you," Santana growls.

"Or what?" Felix asks. "I'm your brother."

"Well it's lovely to see you again, Felix," Rachel says. "It's so sweet of you to show your support in this time of crisis."

Felix's grin grows. "Well, I understand. Santana can be quite a handful. It's completely reasonable that your dads would have issues with her."

"Yes, well, it's more than that," Rachel replies. "But since it's been resolved, I supposed it doesn't matter anymore."

"I told you, San," Felix says, elbowing her. "Trust your girl."

"And I _told_ you I did," Santana snaps. "Doesn't mean I can't be a little worried."

"Awww, you're so cute, Sanny," Felix coos.

"Shut up, Felix," Santana growls.

"You two, stop fighting and let the poor girl into the house," Clara calls from the kitchen. "Making her stand in the hallway and deal with your bickering is rude."

"Yes mom."

"Sorry mom," Santana adds.

"May I escort you to the table?" Felix asks Rachel, offering his arm.

Rachel giggles and accepts. Grumbling, Santana follows the pair.

**…**

After dinner, Santana drags Rachel up to her room. She wants more details than the light hearted and obviously censored version Rachel gave her family.

"So that's it then?" Santana asks.

"Basically? Yes," Rachel replies.

"I sense a but in there."

Rachel nods. "There definitely is, but essentially things will return to normal at my house."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Am I missing something here?" Santana asks.

"Well my relationship with my fathers is completely altered," Rachel offers. "And in most likely hood, though they'll support me financially, because they can afford it; emotionally, most likely not."

"What?"

"Though it's not like they were before," Rachel continues. "But the possibility was always there. And now it's not."

"How can you remain so calm?"

"I see no other way to be," Rachel replies. "I always suspected this outcome. It's the most logical one. I just didn't think it would come to a head so quickly. I had anticipated another week, maybe two."

"And you're okay with it?" Santana asks.

"No, of course not," Rachel says. "But I can't change it. And though it hurts. A lot. It really is the best possible outcome."

"How can you say that?"

"Because the only two choices were you or them," Rachel responds.

"How is that fair? Or right?"

"It's neither," Rachel replies. "It just is."

"I just don't understand how you can be so apathetic about it."

"Because I'm emotionally exhausted and I'd rather not deal with it at the moment," Rachel tells her. "My fathers quote unquote supported me in my youth and I'm hoping you'll support me in the future. That is why I'm okay with how things turned out."

"Ummm…"

"Listen, San," Rachel starts. "I know we joke about it a lot. But I have no expectations of you beyond high school."

"Rachel…"

"I'm serious, tiger," Rachel continues. "Right now, it's me and you. And I'd love it if it continues that way for a long time, but we both know shit happens."

"Yeah, but still-"

"So let's just enjoy it," Rachel says. "I'd like everything to return to normal. I _liked_ how things were going."

"I do too."

"Okay. Good. Then it's settled," Rachel says.

**…**

"Going so soon," Felix says as Rachel comes down the stairs.

"It's getting rather late," Rachel replies. "I should really get home and prepare for another week of McKinley."

"Yeah, that place can be brutal," Felix agrees.

"It's gotten better."

"I'm glad," Felix replies. "And this thing with your dads is fixed?"

Rachel shrugs. "As much as it's going to be."

"But they're okay with you and Santana?" Felix presses.

"No, but I convinced them they have to just trust my judgment and allow me to make my own mistakes."

"Oh."

"It's not ideal, but what else can I do?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know," Felix replies. "But I'm glad you're sticking around for a while."

"Me too."

"Can I walk you to your car?"

Rachel giggles. "That would be lovely, thank you."

**…**

Rachel returns home to a darken house. She knows her dad is at least at home, he has to pack for his two weeks on the road, but she's willing to bet her daddy went to the office and is most likely going to stay late, even though it's a Sunday.

Sighing, she climbs the stairs and goes to her room. She meant what she said to Santana, this really is the best possible outcome. Still, she wishes it could have turned out different.

**…**

Monday morning Quinn is surprised that she still hasn't been lectured by Rachel or threatened by Santana. She's been waiting for some sort of reaction to the extended make out session she had with Brittany, but there's none. It seems the blonde didn't share the information with anyone, which kind of surprises Quinn. She knows Brittany and Santana don't have secrets. But it seems, for once, Brittany's keeping quiet and allowing Quinn to deal with her feelings however she feels necessary.

She appreciates it because there was a part of Quinn that wondered if it was Rachel specifically she's attracted to or if she really and truly is gay.

Based off her experience Thursday afternoon, Quinn knows gay is more likely. And she admits she's still having difficulties with that. So, she appreciates the time and space to deal with it.

Maybe she'll take Brittany up on her offer of another afternoon session.

**…**

Monday morning, Puck opens his locker and finds a McDonald's bag sitting on the shelf. Inside the bag are three bacon, egg and cheese McGriddles™. He grins. His bro always follows up on her promises beyond his expectations.

He unwraps one and takes a huge bite. He could really go for a blue raspberry slushie now, though.

**…**

Monday, Finn is surprised when he makes it to lunchtime without being mocked, belittled or shoved into something. He racks his brain and can't remember hearing about some other big scandal that might have distracted the other jocks from going after him, but nonetheless, he's grateful. Maybe this means one day Puck can forgive him. And that Rachel or Santana will never find out. He shudders at the thought.

So he eats his lunch quietly and tries to keep his head down. It's the safest course of action he can think of.


	23. Green is Not Your Color

**Title:** Green is Not Your Color  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck, Marisa, Mike, Quinn, Will, Sue  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Santana gets jealous. Rachel does not approve of her coping methods.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>~27,600  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Just the previous stories in this series  
><strong><br>**

"This is going to be fucking epic!" Puck crows.

"I still don't think this is a good idea, Noah," Rachel tells him.

"If you really thought that, we wouldn't be here right now."

"I was curious," Rachel replies. "I'm allowed."

"Uh huh," Puck says. "Whatever. You totally love this shit."

"Really, must you curse so much."

"You've been corrupted Rachel Berry," Puck continues. "Admit it."

Rachel glares at the smirking Puck for a full minute before, "Fine. I admit it. Now give me the damn helmet."

"That's my bro."

**…**

"We're not losing," Santana tells Brittany.

"Of course not, San," Brittany replies.

"I don't care if it's only Puckerman and Berry," Santana continues.

"You mean you're girlfriend and her bro?"

"Santana Lopez doesn't lose."

"Well then maybe I should be the one pushing," Brittany suggests. "I mean, cause I'm not sure I can go after Rachy."

"I thought you wanted to win," Santana replies.

"I do."

"Okay then," Santana says. "I'm pushing."

**…**

"This is stupid," Quinn says.

"It could be worse," Mike replies.

"Well, sure," Quinn agrees. "I'm not on fire or anything, so that's nice."

Mike raises an eyebrow at her. "That's a bit of a jump, don't you think?"

"It's just not what I had in mind when Santana asked me if I wanted to hang out," Quinn explains.

"Oh. Well that makes sense," Mike replies. "Luckily for me, I had no idea what to expect when Rachel wanted to hang out."

"It's barbaric."

"We'll get our turn soon enough."

"Yeah, yeah, we get the winner," Quinn says. "I remember."

"Smile, Fabray," Mike replies. "It's the weekend and we're out doing stupid teenage stuff that won't end with anyone getting pregnant."

Quinn glares at him, but Mike can see her fighting a smile. "Keep saying things like that and I'll be the one pushing. And I'll hide the helmet."

"It might be better if you do push," Mike replies. "Your competitive nature would probably be helpful."

"Didn't you say the same thing about why I should be riding instead?"

"Your competitive nature is helpful in both situations?"

Quinn chuckles. "Good answer."

**…**

"So are we doing this or not, Puckerman?" Santana shouts

"We're ready!" Puck yells back.

Rachel adjusts her helmet again. It feels awkward.

"So are we!"

Brittany tightens the strap of her helmet.

"Fabray and Chang?"

"We're ready!"

"Like it matters," Quinn mutters.

"We're the judges for this round, Quinn," Mike mutters back.

"It's just not fair," Quinn continues. "Why do they get to have all the fun first?"

"Because it was their idea?"

"Puck has a lot of ideas," Quinn replies. "What's your point?"

Mike shakes his head.

It's late, nearly midnight and the six of them are on the McKinley High football field. Quinn can admit to herself, at least, that she's impressed that Rachel managed to get the flood lights turned on and that for whatever reason, no one's comes to bust them.

She and Mike are sitting at the fifty yard line in lawn chairs. At the forty-five yard line are Rachel and Puck, while Brittany and Santana are on the other forty-five yard line. Rachel and Brittany are wearing football helmets, holding pool noodles and sitting in shopping carts. Behind them are Puck and Santana posed to push them.

Quinn can't wait to see Puck and Santana push the carts through the grass; she knows it's going to be difficult. But Quinn agrees with Rachel, if anyone falls, the grass will be much more forgiving than concrete ever will.

Still, this definitely wasn't what Quinn had in mind when Brittany asked if she wanted to hang out tonight. She doesn't mind, exactly, because she knows being included in this ridiculousness means that she, Brittany and Santana are definitely back to being friends. A little warning would have been nice is all.

Both pairs look ready, so Quinn stands and waves the red flag Rachel handed her earlier. Santana and Puck begin to push the carts.

Mike and Quinn watch as the shopping carts move closer. Rachel and Brittany sit with their pool noodles out like bats. When they're in swinging range, they eagerly go after each other as Santana and Puck push and the carts whiz by each other.

Both Santana and Puck stop and spin the carts around. And then they're off again. They repeat this several times.

Mike and Quinn watch, trying to judge who is getting in the most hits. After five passes, each has picked a winner. They hurriedly confer with each other before standing and walking over to the others.

"So?"

"Brittany got in more hits," Mike says.

"What? No fucking way," Puck argues.

"Noah, language."

"She did, Puckerman," Quinn says. "So Mike and I are up."

"Fine," Puck replies. "But no matter what, you guys are up against us after this."

"Deal."

Puck helps Rachel out of the cart after she hands the pool noodle to Quinn. She takes off the helmet and hands it over as well.

Quinn smirks as she puts the helmet on, though she has to adjust it. "Your head's smaller than I thought it'd be, Berry," Quinn snarks. "I mean, that ego should take up much more room."

"Like I'm the only one here with an inflated ego, Fabray," Rachel replies.

"There's some mud over there if the two of you want to throw down," Puck suggests.

"Yeah, totally," Brittany adds. "Hot."

"One thing at a time," Rachel says. "Let's finish this first."

"They're not mud wrestling, Puckerman," Santana adds.

"Spoil sport."

Mike helps Quinn into the cart and he begins pushing it into position as Santana does the same. Puck and Rachel back off. Rachel grabs the flag where Quinn dropped it.

"You guys ready?" Puck calls out.

Brittany happily waves the pool noodle as Quinn calls out. "Let's do this."

Rachel waves the flag and they're off.

This time when the carts pass, there's a much bigger flurry of movement as Brittany and Quinn go after each other. They do five passes before stopping and waiting for the verdict.

Rachel and Puck walk over to them.

"So?" Quinn asks.

"Brittany," Puck says. "Sorry Q."

"Whatever," Quinn replies. "Get your ass in that cart, Berry. It's on."

Santana helps Brittany out and Rachel in. Brittany then puts the helmet on Rachel and hands her the pool noodle. Then Puck and Mike push the carts back into place.

Brittany picks up the flag and waves it about. Both Mike and Puck take off while Quinn and Rachel brace themselves. Both girls are less crouched then they were previously, making themselves less steady as the boys push.

When the pool noodles begin flying, it's even more furious than before; most likely because the carts are moving slower than before as the boys are tired. Each pass, both girls get in numerous hits and it's difficult to tell who won.

They know this because once they do five passes and wait for the winner to be declared, Brittany excitedly tells them, everyone wins.

"I couldn't tell," Santana shrugs. "You two were swinging so energetically, it was tough to tell."

"You suck, Lopez," Puck growls.

"Yeah," Quinn adds. "How hard was your job?"

"Whatever," Santana replies. "Maybe if you and Rach weren't so insane, it wouldn't have looked like a blur of neon orange and green."

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "It makes me want cotton candy."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter who won," Rachel says. "It was fun, right?"

"Yeah, it was cool," Mike agrees.

"It didn't suck," Quinn adds.

"Jeez, Fabray," Santana says. "Don't be too excited about anything. You might feel something."

"Just because I don't find this the height of entertainment, doesn't make me boring."

"Not _just_ this, you mean," Santana counters.

"Watch it," Quinn growls.

"Oooh, now I'm scared."

"Think I can nudge them towards the mud," Puck mutters to Mike and Rachel, fully expecting to be hit by Rachel.

"We can hear you, Puckernone," Santana snaps.

"In your dreams," Quinn adds.

"Hell yeah, you will be," Puck leers.

"Nice to know your association with Rachel hasn't stopped you from being a pervert."

"A guy has needs, Q," Puck replies.

"You know what you need?"

"I think we need to get out of here," Mike interrupts. "I'm surprised no one's busted us yet."

"It's Lima," Santana replies. "I doubt anyone cares."

"Perhaps," Rachel says. "But Mike's probably right. We should leave sooner rather than later."

"Can I have the green noodle, Rach?" Brittany asks.

"Of course, Britt," Rachel replies.

Brittany picks it off the ground and begins to happily bounce around with it.

Both Rachel and Santana grab one of Brittany's arms and pull her off the field with Puck, Mike and Quinn trailing after.

**…**

Because it's pretty late, they all go their separate ways. And for the first time in forever, Puck goes home instead of over to Rachel's. Instead, after dropping Brittany off, Santana heads over to Rachel's.

Brittany teases Santana the whole way to her house.

"Awww, did Sanny miss her Rachy? You can't even go a whole week. You're so whipped."

If it was anyone other than Brittany _and_ the fact that she was right, Santana would have left the blonde on the side of the road. Instead, she stays quiet as she pulls into Brittany driveway.

"Bye S," Brittany says, getting out the car. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"What? Like homework?"

Brittany smirks and blows Santana a kiss before slamming the car door shut and skipping into her house.

**…**

It's late enough that all Santana wants to do is crawl into bed and curl around her girlfriend. She uses her key and walks up the stairs slowly. The hall light is on and Rachel's door open slightly.

Inside the room, Rachel is stretched out in bed, unmoving, but Santana can tell she's not asleep yet.

Santana strips as she walks to the bed, before slipping under the sheets. Rachel is wearing a tank top and boxers, so Santana begins trying to remove her clothing.

"San, I'm tired," Rachel mumbles.

"Me too, babe," Santana replies. "Just want to feel you."

"Okay." And Rachel allows herself to be stripped.

Santana tosses the clothes onto the floor and pulls the blanket back over them. She then pulls Rachel on top of her and wraps her arms around her. She feels Rachel smile against her shoulder and knows this is exactly how things should be.

With feelings of complete contentment surrounding her, it's not long before Santana's asleep.

**…**

They spend Saturday in bed. For some reason, it feels like they've been apart longer and so neither feels the need to do anything but spend the day in the other's arms.

It might also be because of all the sex. Santana seems intent on making up for lost time and so every time they wake up, ends in an orgasm and a nap. It becomes an almost endless cycle. Though the second to last time, it's Santana who wakes up with Rachel's head between her thighs.

Santana groans," God, babe, I've _really_ missed your mouth."

"And I've missed tasting you, San," Rachel moans back, flicking her tongue. "I think I might need to practice a lot in case I've forgotten how."

Santana gasps. "You, uh, defin-oh god, you're doing, just, uh, fine."

Rachel just smirks.

**…**

Sunday morning while in bed, reading the Sunday New York Times, Santana decides to broach the subject she's been wondering about for days.

"You never did tell me what exactly happened with your dads," Santana says.

"I told you the important parts," Rachel replies.

"Actually you've told me almost nothing," Santana counters.

"Yes, well, there's not much to tell."

"Which means there's plenty to tell," Santana surmises.

Rachel doesn't say anything.

"I let it go before because you said you were emotionally exhausted," Santana says. "And I didn't want to push. But it's been a week and you still haven't told me _any_thing."

"I'd just really rather not," Rachel explains. "I'm not particularly pleased about how things turned out and I'd rather just move forward."

"It's unhealthy to bottle things up like that," Santana tells her. "And you know it."

"Discussing it won't solve anything," Rachel replies.

"It might make you feel better," Santana offers.

"Not talking about it makes me feel better."

"Rach, come on," Santana says. "If our positions were reversed, would you let this go?"

"Of course I'd respect your privacy," Rachel replies.

Santana raises an eyebrow at her.

"Fine," Rachel sighs. "No, I wouldn't."

Santana waits as Rachel pushes the newspaper onto the floor and curls into Santana's side. This isn't enough contact though and Santana pulls Rachel onto her.

"It was bad, San," Rachel whispers. "Really bad. I've never seen daddy that angry before. And disappointed. I disappointed them both so badly, they're never going to think of me as their little girl anymore."

"Well, you are growing up," Santana offers.

"This is different. By rejecting their parental offerings, I've made myself into a stranger in their eyes."

"But they're the ones that abandoned you first," Santana points out.

"They don't see it that way. They thought they were setting me up for something amazing while they went off to provide for me. And in a way, I suppose they were. They just forgot that more than anything, I'd need their presence. I suppose it's my own fault for being so independent."

"What do you mean, that you rejected their parental offerings?"

"We were talking about you," Rachel replies. "And no matter what I said, all they could reply is that you're not good for me. Nor would they agree to meet you to quell those concerns. And so my tenaciousness kicked in. Daddy didn't like that. He reacted badly."

Santana's quiet for a moment before, "What does that mean, exactly?"

"He got angry," Rachel explains. "Really angry. I don't think I've ever seen him that angry before.

Santana's quiet for longer this time before, "What _aren't_ you telling me babe?"

Rachel's silent for so long, Santana doesn't think she's going to answer. And then Rachel presses her face into Santana's shoulder.

"He slapped me," Rachel whispers.

"What?"

"I was rather rude and he slapped me," Rachel says, pulling away slightly.

"He didn't."

Rachel nods. "It's fine."

"Is that why you were wearing so much make up this week?" Santana asks. "To cover up a hand print?"

Rachel nods again.

"But you're not angry," Santana says.

"Why should I be?" Rachel asks. "It's over and done with. There's nothing I can do to change it."

"He slapped you."

"I know. I was there."

"Well I'm pissed," Santana says.

"Why?" Rachel asks. "I mean, yes, it was an unpleasant experience, but it's over and done with. And many things were figured out between daddy and I."

"What was your dad's reaction?"

Rachel thinks about it for a moment. "You know, I'm not entirely sure," Rachel says. "I was so focused on daddy and our stalemate that I just can't say."

"You can't say?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"Well what did you do?"

Rachel shrugs. "Nothing really. What could I do?"

Santana sits up. "You did nothing?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Rachel asks. "I certainly wasn't going to hit him back."

"He shouldn't have slapped you in the first place," Santana growls.

"Agreed. However, it happened. There's no undoing it."

"Did he at least apologize?"

"We both did," Rachel says.

"What?"

"About the situation," Rachel clarifies. "We both regret that our relationship has deteriorated to nothing."

"But what about the slap?" Santana asks. "Did he apologize for slapping you?"

"What? Of course not."

"Of course not? What the hell Rach? Are you saying it's fine he did that?"

"Certainly not. But I didn't expect him to apologize."

"Why the hell not?"

Rachel thinks about it a moment. "I don't know, exactly. I just didn't."

"God, why are you such a fucking doormat?"

"Santana Lopez, I am no such thing."

"Oh yeah?" Santana sneers. "We spent two years calling you names and throwing slushies in your face. You should _hate_us. But instead all it took was an apology and we're all suddenly BFFs. Sounds like a doormat to me."

"Are you including yourself in that little equation?"

"Hell yeah, I am. I was a complete and utter bitch to you."

"People can't change?"

"Course they can, but why'd you give in so damn easily? I mean, all it took was some drunken sex between us and all's forgotten. I mean, I know I'm good in the sack, but _come on_."

"Yeah, well it's about all you're good for," Rachel sneers. "You should be proud of yourself that you were able to win me over so easily. All it took was a couple of orgasms. Congratulations. You must be really fucking good."

"You know I am babe. Too bad it took you so long to learn."

"Then you must be easier than I thought, Lopez," Rachel snaps. "Because I remember you getting off plenty."

"Maybe I was just faking it. Didn't want to hurt you and sensitive little ego."

"As if you care about my feelings."

"Well you sure as hell don't," Santana replies. "So why should I? Doormat."

"I am not a doormat."

"Could've fooled me," Santana sneers. "I mean, you daddy slaps you and doesn't apologize and you're fine with it? Pathetic."

"You watch your fucking mouth, Santana Lopez," Rachel growls.

"Why should I? When I pretend to apologize tomorrow you're just going to forgive me. Just like the doormat you are."

"You're a fucking bitch."

"Oooh, that hurt, doormat," Santana mocks.

Rachel picks Santana clothes off the floor and whips them at her. "Get the fuck out my house before I smack that smirk off your face."

Santana begins to get dressed. "Like I'm scared of you, Tiny Tim."

"You should be."

"Whatever, Treasure Trail, I'm out of here," Santana sneers. "I've got better places to be."

Now dressed, Santana stomps down the stairs and out the door.

"I hope the door hits you on the way out!" Rachel yells after her.

**…**

They ignore each other the next day at school. Everyone notices, but no one has the guts to say anything. Not after Brittany was rejected by Santana and Puck was literally pushed into a locker after asking Rachel.

Both Puck and Brittany were surprised that neither girl confided in them. They sat together at one end of the glee table and discussed it during lunch.

"Maybe I should talk to Rachy and you can talk to San," Brittany suggests.

"No way," Puck replies. "Lopez would probably kick me in the nuts."

"Yeah, she probably would," Brittany agrees. "But we have to figure out what's going on."

"Why?" Puck asks. "They're so damned dependent on each other, I figure they'll work it out themselves because they miss each other."

"Maybe," Brittany says. "But there's also a chance that their stubbornness won't let them do that."

"Yeah, but I still don't think it'll last long. A couple days."

"I hope you're right," Brittany replies. "They're both rather dangerous when they're like this."

**…**

Rachel is having lunch alone in the choir room, just enjoying the silence when the door slowly creeks open. Knowing it's not Santana, she wouldn't be so timid, Rachel keeps eating her sandwich.

Marisa peeks her head in. "Can I join you?"

Rachel nods. Marisa slides in and quietly closes the door behind her.

Thankfully, Marisa doesn't seem to have the need to talk. And so the pair eat their lunch in silence. Rachel is grateful because she's still feeling so angry and she's worried she'll react badly like she did earlier with Noah. Rachel isn't worried because she knows he's used to worse, having dated Quinn and Santana. But Rachel's not sure about Marisa.

**…**

Santana sits at the Cheerios' table at lunch with Quinn next to her. The blonde is the only one brave enough to do so. The scowl on Santana's face is angry enough to scare off everyone but Quinn or Coach Sylvester. Even the other Cheerios who are used to a bitchy Santana, stay away. Talking to her would be like poking a bear with a stick, dangerous.

As it is, Quinn isn't actually brave enough to ask about Rachel. She knows the fight is the reason Santana's so upset; like the others she's very curious. However, she's not in the mood to be bitched out, Lopez style, so she keeps eating her lunch hoping it'll all blow over soon.

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes are fascinated. For as long as Rachel and Santana have been dating, they've never witnessed a fight. Brittany once assured them that the pair do fight, just that they usually resolve it before it becomes noticeable. But then Brittany went on to explain that this fight is about Pepsi™ versus Coke™ and since neither girl drinks soda, so Kurt isn't sure how accurate Brittany's reporting skills are.

"Brittany's probably just joking," Mercedes says.

"Or she's messing with us."

"I doubt it," Mercedes replies. "Girl's too clueless."

"You think?"

"Yeah," Mercedes answers. "She's probably just enjoying having all the answers for once."

"That makes sense," Kurt agrees.

"We'll just have to pay attention," Mercedes continues. "And we'll figure it out eventually."

**…**

Tuesday morning, Rachel approaches McKinley with apprehension. It's day three of her fight with Santana. Technically it's been forty-five hours, and seventeen minutes, or rather it would be if Rachel was keeping track, which she definitely is not.

Brittany is waiting for her at her locker. Rachel cringes because almost any reason Brittany has for waiting for Rachel is going to be something Rachel doesn't want to talk about at the moment.

"Hi Rach!"

"Morning Britt," Rachel replies.

"How's it going?"

"Adequately," Rachel says. "You?"

"Not adequately," Brittany replies.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. My best friend is sad and I don't know how to cheer her up."

"Yes. Well. I don't know either," Rachel says.

"That's not true, Rachy," Brittany replies.

"Brittany, I love you, but please stay out of it," Rachel tells her.

"It just makes me sad when you guys are sad," Brittany says.

"I know, Britt," Rachel replies. "And for that I'm sorry."

Rachel closes her locker and walks away before Brittany can say anything else.

**…**

Rachel eats her lunch in the choir room again. Marisa joins her again as well. Rachel spends most of lunch waiting for Marisa to say something, but she never does. Rachel wonders if Marisa's waiting for _her_ to speak. It is after all, what she's known for.

Rachel prefers the quiet. She figures it's most likely because she hates fighting with Santana. Usually their fights only last a few hours. This is the first time it's lasted over a day and Rachel's pretty certain it's going to continue. They're both so stubborn and for once neither girl is going to back down.

When the end of lunch bell rings, Rachel sighs and gathers her stuff. Marisa offers her a hesitant smile that Rachel returns before exiting the choir room.

**…**

Rachel is first to glee per usual. She spends the time warming up, as she watches the others trickle in.

Santana, Brittany and Quinn are last. Brittany is the only one that looks happy to be there. Quinn looks extremely irritated while Santana just looks pissed. Rachel sighs because Santana looks how Rachel feels. Sometimes Rachel wishes she didn't feel the need to always put up a positive front. She wants to sulk around the school all day as well.

Mr. Schue comes in a moment later look exuberant. It diminishes a bit when he sees the state of the room.

Rachel is sitting next to Puck looking aggravated. Kurt and Mercedes look bored. Finn is sitting the drums and not really paying attention. Mike is the back row with his eyes closed. Tina and Artie are quietly talking the in the front row. And the Cheerios are sitting haughtily in the corner.

It feels like their first year all over again. Mr. Schue puts on a wider grin and tries to infuse them all with his love of glee.

It doesn't work. Mr. Schue lets them go early and tries to figure out what went wrong.

**…**

Santana is glad to see that Rachel seems to be as affected by their fighting as she is. She hasn't really seen her girlfriend around. Santana figures she's avoiding her. Because Santana's definitely avoiding Rachel. However, for some reason, Santana was worried that their fight isn't affecting Rachel like it is her.

But the scowl on the girl's face in glee seems to be a good indication because singing almost always makes Rachel Berry happy. If Santana can just hold out a little longer, they'll be having hot make up sex in a day or two. Santana can't wait.

**…**

Rachel exits McKinley to find Marisa leaning against her car, reading _The Theatre and Its Double_. She checks her watch when she sees Rachel coming toward her.

"Mr. Schue let us go early," Rachel explains.

"And you're okay with that?"

Rachel shrugs. "It was a rather unproductive day."

"Too bad," Marisa says, sliding into Rachel's car.

"Perhaps not," Rachel replies starting the car. "If we're not focused and dedicated, practice is sometimes a waste of time."

"I can't believe you just said that with a straight face."

Rachel sighs. "I really just wanted to get out of there," she admits.

"Oh."

The short drive is spent in silence and Rachel feels a bit bad, but the melancholy mood she's in has been difficult to escape. Even though they'll just be studying, Rachel hopes she'll snap out of it eventually.

**…**

The one thing Santana enjoys about fighting with Rachel is how everyone else jumps out of her way in the halls. She's in a bad mood and she knows it shows, especially judging by how people react. She must look angrier than she thought.

It's a pitiful bit of relief to the low she's in.

But for now, she'll take it.

**…**

Marisa has been enjoying having lunch alone with Rachel Berry. Even if the past couple days have only been filled with silence. She's gathered that Rachel is in the midst of a huge fight with Santana, but that's just from rumors she's heard around school. She doesn't have the courage to ask Rachel and the girl hasn't offered any information.

Marisa had sort of hoped her crush would go away. But spending time with Rachel probably isn't the best way to get over it.

She knows she's still a goner because the grateful smile Rachel shoots her at the end of lunch every day still gets her heart pounding and makes her hands sweaty.

Some days she wishes she had the guts to go after Rachel. Because she knows the older girl really has no idea. Marisa figures it's her history. Being known as the school loser probably lowers one's self esteem about her date ability.

But going up against Santana Lopez is a daunting task. And Marisa knows enough to avoid _that_ at any cost.

Still, she's allowed to day dream.

**…**

Brittany still doesn't know what the fight was about. She's kind of surprised by this because she thought both of them would have said something to her or even Puck about it, but they're being amazingly tight lipped about it. She wonders if that means it's something stupid and embarrassing.

Still she's not sure how she ended up hanging out with Rachel and Mike. She's not complaining. She and Mike have always gotten along just fine. She is a bit surprised about Mike and Rachel's friendship, though. Not that it isn't allowed, she's just never really seen them together.

They're at the park; Brittany's suggestion. She figured acting a bit childish might cheer Rachel up. And she knows Mike is usually up for swinging; something about pumping being good leg exercise.

She has to agree as she, Rachel and Mike compete to see who can get the highest. She's barely ahead, then Mike and finally Rachel; who is complaining it's unfair because she's the shortest.

"Yeah, but your determination should make up for it, Berry," Mike teases.

"Will power rarely overcomes physical fact, Chang," Rachel shoots back. "Besides, you two totally cheated."

"What?"

"You started before I did."

"It's not our fault you see confused by the concept of swinging," Mike replies.

"I was not, Mike Chang."

"You were probably too busy as a kid to properly learn," Mike continues.

"I was not," Rachel argues.

"Prove it," Mike says. "Swing higher."

Brittany chuckles. Mike really seems to like teasing Rachel. If she didn't know better, she'd think he has a crush on Rachel. But then again, that could just be her need to protective Santana's feelings than reality. Though she's been told plenty of times that she sees things a lot of people miss.

Rachel is almost frantically pumping her legs now as she fights to gain height over them. Brittany wonders if she'll be able to get Rachel to jump off the swing with her. Mike is grinning widely and Brittany decides to give him the benefit of the doubt about Rachel. God knows the girl needs more friends. And Mike's never been anything but a nice guy to Rachel. Unlike the rest of them, he's never really gave into peer pressure.

Brittany watches a giggling Rachel match Mike swing for swing, valiantly trying to get higher. She doesn't think Rachel'll win, but a tie seems likely. Brittany's glad; seeing Rachel happy always makes her happier.

**…**

Santana's starting to hate being a stubborn bitch who has a ridiculously obstinate girlfriend. Usually after one of their fights, one of them will realize they're in the wrong and apologize. Apparently not this time.

Maybe Santana shouldn't have called her a doormat, but it just came out. And Santana still thinks she's right, Rachel doesn't stand up for herself enough. Sure, she does things that are almost like payback, like the pranks, but in Santana's mind it doesn't really count. It does in Rachel's, but to Santana, people have to know who's doing it and why for it to have an impact. Rachel's internal cathartic approach is something she's never understood.

As one of Rachel's primary torturers over the years, Santana knows she doesn't exactly have a leg to stand on; especially as someone who simply felt into line behind Q, who was only doing it because of gay panic.

Looking around the lunch room with a sigh, Santana can't find her girlfriend anywhere. In fact, the only time she's seen her is during glee on Tuesday and that had been a rather disastrous afternoon. Santana's never seen Mr. Schue more frustrated. She finds it ridiculous how unsupportive of Rachel he is and yet he expects her to have _his_ back for glee. It makes her want to slushie him again.

It's not a bad idea, actually.

"What the hell, Lopez?" Quinn grouses when Santana jumps up.

"Just thought of something I need to do," Santana tells her, dashing off.

"It better be making up with your damn girlfriend," Quinn mutters watching her leave.

**…**

"Want to hang out again after school?" Rachel asks Marisa.

Marisa almost falls off her chair, she's so surprised. It feels like it's been so long since Rachel's said anything during lunch. She manages a nod.

"I realize I haven't been as… engaged as I usually am," Rachel continues. "And for that I apologize. I just haven't felt up to it."

"It's okay," Marisa tells her. Because it is.

"It's not," Rachel replies. "I'd like to think we're friends."

Marisa nods.

"And just because I'm preoccupied, doesn't mean I'm allowed to be rude."

"Rachel," Marisa says. "It's okay. Quiet is nice sometimes."

"I think so as well," Rachel agrees. "Though I know that would surprise many people."

"Not the important ones."

Rachel smiles. "You're sweet."

Marisa fights back a blush. "So are you."

Rachel looks at Marisa as if she's seeing her for the first time. The scrutiny is Rachel Berry intense and Marisa struggles not to squirm under it. But after a moment, Rachel physically shakes herself and smiles.

"We'll have to do something fun after finishing our homework, then," Rachel says.

Marisa can think of several fun things they can do, but simply nods instead.

"Good," Rachel says.

**…**

Thursday glee begins with Mr. Schue getting slushied as he enters.

He's last as usual and so Santana is easily able to set it up.

No one says anything for a moment and then suddenly it's nothing but the tittering of everyone trying to understand what just happened.

"I'll be back in a few moments," Mr. Schue says, sounding resigned, before exiting again.

Santana spare a glance over towards Rachel. The permanent scowl that seems to be on her face this week hasn't changed. Santana had had vague hopes of cheering her girl up enough to perhaps smooth things over. She probably should have known better. After all, if Rachel thinks it's fine for her daddy to slap her, she probably feels bad for Mr. Schue.

"I thought slushies were banned," Kurt says.

"There are," Santana growls.

"Then what's you explanation for what just happened to Mr. Schue?" Kurt asks.

"I don't have one," Santana replies.

"Are you going to do anything about it?" Tina asks.

"No."

"What? Why not?" Kurt questions.

"Because it's not happening to you guys," Santana explains. "Yeah, it sucks for Schue, but one slushie to the face won't kill him."

"You're rather lackadaisical about it," Rachel comments quietly.

"Yeah, well I have better things to worry about than Mr. Schue," Santana replies.

"Doubtful," Rachel grumbles.

"What was that, Berry?"

"None of your damn business, Lopez," Rachel snaps.

"Everything in this damn school is my business."

"Actually, I would argue that it's Quinn," Rachel smirks. "Lackey."

Santana jumps up and everyone else scrambles out of her way.

"Considering _I_ was the one to stop all the slushies, are you so sure about that?"

"Positive," Rachel nods, still smirking.

Santana growls and slowly advances on Rachel.

"Something you want to say to me Berry?"

"I believe I've already said plenty."

Glowering, Santana looms over Rachel who is still sitting looking almost relaxed, except for the hard expression on her face.

Everyone is holding their breaths wondering if they'll find out what the hell their fight was about.

However, the reentrance of Mr. Schue causes Santana to back off and sit down next to Brittany.

Sensing the tension in the room, Mr. Schue looks around the room. "Okay, what did I miss?"

**…**

This time Rachel finds Marisa reading _Battle Royale_ after glee. The girl actually jumps when Rachel clears her throat to announce her presence.

"Hey," Marisa says, sheepishly.

"I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's fine," Marisa replies, climbing into the car. "Just an intense part is all."

They're hanging out at Marisa's today because she's supposed to be watching her younger brothers today. Rachel doesn't mind. She often wonders what it'd be like to have siblings.

"Mom, I'm home," Marisa calls out as they enter.

A tall blonde woman in her forties comes scurrying down the stairs. "Great, honey. They're playing Wii in the living room."

"All right. We're just going to do homework in the kitchen."

"Are you going to introduce us?" Mrs. Lawson asks.

"This is Rachel Berry. Rachel this is my mom, Diane."

"A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Lawson."

"You as well, Rachel." Mrs. Lawson grabs her purse and pulls out a twenty. "Why don't you guys order pizza then?"

"Thanks mom."

They stop by the family room to tell Tyler and Calvin where they'll be, but neither boy pays attention, simply waving them away as they continue to play Death Jr.: Root of Evil.

After getting settles with a couple bottles of water, they sit at the table and start their individual homework.

About an hour later, they're interrupted by the stamped of feet that claim they're hungry.

"Mom gave me money for pizza," Marisa says.

"Awesome," Tyler says. "Pepperoni and green olives."

"No way," Calvin says. "Sausage and mushrooms."

"We'll get one of each like usual," Marisa tells them. "Go away so I can order."

They both run out and back into the living room to play.

"I know you're vegan," Marisa says to Rachel. "I'm sure we can figure out something-"

"It's okay, actually," Rachel replies. "Do you mind if I order?"

Marisa shakes her head.

Rachel pulls out her cell and dials the pizza place. Marisa watches in awe as Rachel places their order and manages to get a small vegan pizza for herself.

"How'd you get them to agree to that?" Marisa asks when Rachel hangs up. "I can barely get them to throw in napkins."

"Why would you need napkins when you have some here?" Rachel asks. "Oh. Right. Well, I find persistence to be quite useful some days."

Smiling, Marisa just shakes her head and tries to stop her crush from growing.

"He said it'll be about forty minutes," Rachel continues.

"Sounds good."

**…**

Santana picks Brittany up Friday morning and drives to school. The blonde can't believe this stupid fight has gone on for as long as it has. She thought for sure she'd be ditched tonight while Rachel and Santana make up. She supposes there's still time, but judging by the scowl on Santana's face, the odds don't look good.

**…**

Marisa exits a bathroom stall, third period to find Santana Lopez leaning against a sink, apparently waiting for her. A cold wave of panic washes over her; she tries to ignore it as she goes to the far sink to wash her hands. She decides her best choice is to ignore Santana for as long as possible.

Santana chuckles when Marisa grabs some paper towels.

"Scared kiddo?"

"Course not," Marisa manages. "Why should I be?"

"You're not as subtle as you think, kid," Santana replies. "I know how you feel about my girl."

"I…"

"And even though we're fighting at the moment, she will _always_ be my girl." Santana grabs Marisa's shirt and pushes her back towards the stalls. "You understand me, kiddo? This silly little crush you're harboring? Stops. Because. You. Will. Never. Have. Her," Santana says, taking a step closer with every word.

"I don't, uh, I don't know what you're talking about," Marisa spits out.

"Don't play dumb, kiddo," Santana says. "You're not good at it. Better work on that whole acting thing a bit more."

"We're just friends," Marisa tries.

"That's right," Santana replies. "You're just friends. But just in case you're thinking you can be more because we're on the outs, I have a little preview of what's to come if you do."

The door swings open, though neither girl notices as someone enters.

Santana hold up a large slushie cup that she'd had behind her back. She smirks and then tosses it at Marisa.

Because of the close proximity, it hits Marisa square in the face and covers most of her clothing.

Marisa's never been hit by a slushie, but she's heard about it from Rachel and a few others. Their stories made her glad that they'd stopped by the time she'd started. Having now experienced one, she definitely certain. The shocking cold leaves her sputtering and sticky.

She really hates blue raspberry.

They both turn at the gasp just behind Santana. Not having heard the door open, both are shocked to find Rachel standing there looking stunned.

"_Santana_," Rachel manages. "I can't believe you would do that."

"I…"

"What were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking this freshman is moving in on my territory and I have to stop it," Santana snaps.

"_Your territory_?" Rachel snarls. "How dare you? And what? We have a fight and suddenly you're so insecure?"

"We're still fighting," Santana points out.

"So? Don't take your frustration out on Marisa."

"She's totally into you,' Santana snaps. "How can you not see the huge crush she has on you?"

"After all this time, you still don't trust me?" Rachel questions. "Thank you. I find that immensely reassuring about both our relationship and your faith in me."

"What am I supposed to think, Berry," Santana asks. "When you're hanging out with her Tuesday _and_ Thursday?"

"Are you spying on me?"

"People talk," Santana shrugs.

"So the only solution you can come up with is to corner her in the bathroom and _slushie_ her?"

"I'm protecting what's mine," Santana replies.

"By slushing her?"

"I could have done worse," Santana says.

"You shouldn't have done _any_thing," Rachel tells her.

"I had to do something," Santana argues.

"This isn't enough?" Rachel asks, pointing to her left hip.

"Not if no one knows about it," Santana replies.

"You want the whole school to know?" Rachel asks. "Because if they know about mine, they're going to know about yours."

"Well, no. I just want people to know what's mine."

"They do."

"Well obviously she doesn't."

"That's just your paranoia talking," Rachel replies.

"How can you be so blind?" Santana asks.

"You really don't trust me, do you?" Rachel asks, incredulous. "Your name is permanently on my body and you still don't trust me?"

"It's _her_ I don't trust," Santana replies.

"So what? She says she likes me and I completely forget about you?"

"Well, no…"

"As if I could," Rachel says, almost to herself. "Even when I try to, I can't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana asks, incredulous.

"It _means_, Lopez, that you're a thorn in my side."

"Yeah, well, you're a pain in my ass," Santana snaps.

"Are you going to apologize to Marisa?"

"Why should I? I'm not sorry."

"So what?" Rachel asks. "You just stopped the slushies to keep getting into my pants?"

"So what if I did?"

"It's like I don't even know you," Rachel says.

"I could say the same thing to you," Santana retorts.

"So after all this time-"

"You said it first," Santana interrupts.

"Because it's true," Rachel insists. "If you can slushie someone because of jealousy, then I don't know you."

"Yeah, well, if you're suddenly surprised that I'm possessive, then you're a fucking idiot."

"I'm not surprised by _that_," Rachel replies. "I can't believe your reaction."

"Well you shouldn't be."

Rachel presses her fingers to her temple. "Fine," she says finally. "If that's really the way you feel, maybe we should just end this."

"No way," Santana replies. "I'm not done being angry yet."

"You misunderstand me, Santana. I don't mean this fight," Rachel says. "I meant our relationship."

"You're breaking up with me?"

"So it seems."

"I'm Santana fucking Lopez! _You_ do not break up with me."

"It seems to be what you want," Rachel says.

"What _I_ want?"

"I'm apparently very untrustworthy," Rachel answers. "Besides, I'll be honest that this slushie incident is wearing heavily on my mind."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You know damn well what it means," Rachel replies. "And when you calm the fuck down and just think a little, you'll realize it."

"I don't want to calm the fuck down," Santana snaps. "I want to keep fighting and figure this out."

"Unfortunately, that's not what's going to happen," Rachel says. She grabs Marisa's hand. "Come on. I'll help you get cleaned up in another bathroom."

"Don't you dare," Santana snarls.

Rachel doesn't answer, just drags Marisa out of the stall and out of the bathroom. Leaving Santana staring slack jawed after them.

Part Two

"I apologize for that," Rachel says as they enter the other first floor girls' bathroom. "I don't suppose you have any extra clothes?"

Marisa shakes her head as Rachel hands her several wet paper towels.

"Hmmm. Do you have anything important going on today?"

Marisa shakes her head again.

"Okay. Then you'll clean up the best you can and then I'll drive you home so you can change and shower."

"Seriously?"

"I have nothing pressing happening today. I'm sure my teachers will glad for the reprieve of my presence."

"Okay."

"Being slushied can be rather traumatic," Rachel says. "Especially the first time. And since it's Friday, I say why not try to deal with it in a more comfortable environment."

Marisa nods and continues to wipe the dried blue sugar off herself.

**…**

Marisa is incredibly relived that her mom isn't home. There'd be too many things to explain otherwise.

She leaves Rachel downstairs, telling her to help herself to the fridge before heading upstairs to clean up.

The shower helps immensely. She can't imagine how Rachel managed to clean up properly while still at school. But then again, in Marisa's mind, there's very little Rachel _can't_ do. She realizes it's mostly her crush dictating that thought.

Pulling on clean clothes helps her feel more normal. Now all she has to do is go downstairs and face Rachel, who thanks to her _ex-girlfriend_ knows about the crush Marisa has on her.

**…**

Lunch time finds Santana alone in the back seat of her car trying not to cry. She really just wants to take off, but she's Santana fucking Lopez and she can't let it show that being dumped by Rachel Berry is affecting her.

Just because she's completely devastated, doesn't mean she's going to let it show.

And then the door by her feet is opening and Santana is cursing herself for not locking the door. But it's only Brittany, who lays down as well and pulls Santana onto her.

She doesn't say anything, just wraps her arms around her and holds her tight.

**…**

Kurt can't believe his ears when he hears that Rachel Berry broke up with Santana Lopez. He can barely contain himself to last until lunch.

He's the first one at the table, keeping his ears open, hoping to hear something else. He sees neither girl, nor does he see their BFFs, so he's going to have to rely on the others for info.

**…**

To Marisa's utter surprise, Rachel only apologizes for Santana's actions, but lets everything else drop and suggests they watch some daytime TV. Marisa happily agrees and they settle on the couch.

A small bit of her is tempted to make a move. But her rational side knows that it's way too soon for that. It's only been about ninety minutes. So instead she settles in to watch a random talk show.

**…**

Santana finally gives in and lets Brittany drive her home. Thankfully, it's a quiet drive that ends with Brittany escorting Santana into the house and up into her room.

The fact that Rachel left, most likely with that little blond freshman, is killing Santana. It's not that she thinks anything is happening; it's too soon. But that Rachel would side with the cause of their break up is really tearing Santana apart.

God, if she'd just talked over her plan with Brittany instead of impulsively running off for a slushie, she wouldn't even be in this position.

She knew it was stupid, but she was so angry and jealous and tired of fighting that she let her former instincts take over. Plus, she didn't think she'd get caught.

**…**

"Where are you?" Puck asks the moment Rachel answers her cell.

"Not at school. Why?"

"Rumor mill is going crazy," Puck answers. "Did you really dump Santana?"

Rachel sighs, fighting back tears. "I did."

"Whoa. I figured since you and her are both MIA, but still."

"Santana's not there either?" Rachel asks.

Puck nods and then remembers Rachel can't see him. "Yeah. I think Britt took her home.

"Oh. Wow."

"You sound surprised," Puck observes. "That girl is crazy about you. You have to know that."

"I do. Really," Rachel replies. "I just figured she'd want to stick around to keep her rep intact or whatever."

"I think she tried," Puck says. "But who knows?"

"Right. Of course."

"Listen, Rach," Puck says. "I have to ask. What the fuck?"

"It's a long story," Rachel replies. "Do you really want to hear it now?"

"Don't think I have time," Puck admits. "Short version?"

"You can't tell _any_one."

"Course not."

"I'm serious, Noah," Rachel says. "If I find out you told anyone, I'll get rid of all your porn, I'll tell your mother you want to spend every afternoon with your little sister and I will shave your Mohawk."

"Fuck, Berry, I swear."

"I walked in on Santana slushing Marisa."

"That freshman you hang out with?" Puck asks.

"Yes."

"Harsh."

"Indeed," Rachel agrees.

"Still that doesn't seem like enough-"

"As a former slushie thrower, you don't get to make that judgment."

"Okay," Puck says. "Chill out."

"I apologize," Rachel says. "You're not wrong. It was simply the catalyst."

"Um, right."

"I'll see you later?" Rachel asks. "Usual time?"

"If you're sure, bro."

"I am indeed, Noah."

"Later then."

**…**

Santana has fallen into a light sleep, so Brittany takes the opportunity to head downstairs for something to drink.

She's surprised to find Santana's dad in the kitchen, cooking. It must be later than she thought.

"Brittany," he greets. "Good to see you."

"You too, Tomás."

"What are you and Santana up to tonight?"

"Probably movies in her room," Brittany answers.

"Hmmm, that sounds… calm. Is she not feeling well?"

"Um, well, the thing is…" Brittany isn't sure if Santana wants her folks to know, but the blonde knows if they do it'll save a lot of trouble later on. "Rachel broke up with her today."

Tomás actually drops the pan he's holding. It only falls a few inches, but it's enough to make a loud clang.

"She did what?"

"Well, they've been fighting all week."

"Oh, we know."

"And no one knows about what," Brittany continues. "And she doesn't feel like talking yet, so I have no idea why."

"I assume you'll be around most of the weekend, then?"

"Probably," Brittany nods.

"I can't believe it."

"I know, right."

"Well, if you need anything, Clara and I should be around this weekend. Though I do have a shift on Sunday."

"Thanks Tomás."

After accepting a hug, Brittany takes two bottles of water back up to Santana's room.

**…**

"So, bro," Puck says when he shows up at Rachel's Friday night. "What's on the agenda?"

"Prank prep," Rachel replies.

"Awesome." Puck looks at Rachel's downtrodden expression. "Do you want to talk about the, uh, break up?"

"Do you really mean that Noah?" Rachel asks.

"Uh, I think so."

"Well thank you for the sentiment, but it's unnecessary."

Puck lets out a subconscious sigh of relief as he follows Rachel into the kitchen.

**…**

Quinn stops by after dinner, but almost immediately wishes she hadn't.

"Jeez, Lopez," Quinn says eyeing Santana curled up on the bed. "I think a bit of the drama rubbed off on you."

"Fuck off Fabray," Santana growls.

"Quinn, now is not the time to pick a fight with Santana," Brittany intercedes.

"It's just I didn't expect _this_ reaction," Quinn explains.

"Yeah, well, I'm just full of surprises."

"So it seems," Quinn says.

"You gonna go after her now that she's free, Fabray?" Santana sneers.

"I should since you're being a colossal bitch," Quinn snaps.

"So are you."

"Oooh, that hurt," Quinn scoffs. "Losing Berry seems to have taken your snark too." Quinn chuckles.

"Some friend you are," Santana says.

"Ten seconds ago, you called me a colossal bitch," Quinn points out.

"Not that I don't appreciate the support, if that's what you want to call it," Santana replies. "But unless you have something constructive to say, I'd rather you leave me to be miserable."

"S," Quinn says. "I do care."

"San knows that," Brittany interjects. "She's just concerned because of your feelings for Rachel."

"Ah."

"She's trying to be sensitive and still be Santana," Brittany continues.

"A difficult feat to pull off," Quinn jokes.

"Exactly," Brittany confirms.

"Hey!"

"Well, call me when you feel like getting out," Quinn says. "I'm just going to hit Ferguson's party. _One_ of us has to make an appearance."

"Ah, yes, popularity, your mistress," Santana mocks.

"I'm ignoring that Lopez, because you're upset," Quinn replies. "Call me later, Britt."

"Bye Quinn."

**…**

It's late and they're still up. Rachel's drank more than Puck's ever seen her drink and he's worried. He tried to bring it up earlier when Rachel commandeered a six pack for herself, but was literally elbowed by Rachel in the ribs. It hurt a lot, so he's keeping his mouth shut. It's not like they're driving or anything.

But melancholy, drunk Rachel is scary. She's been watching Ultimate Fighting with him and glaring at the TV. He's not sure if it's the alcohol or the break up to blame for her TV watching choices.

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Puck tries. He's moved onto hard liquor since Rachel's drank most of the beer. He figures Rachel's fathers already hate him anyway, so he doesn't feel bad about drinking their Jack Daniels.

"I think I may have reacted impulsively," Rachel says. "But I don't regret my decision."

"You sure?" Puck questions. "Because we could easily go over there right now and the two of you could have hot make up sex. And to show your appreciation for me, your bro, pushing you towards it, you could let me watch the two of you make out."

This earns him another elbow to the ribs. It's hard enough that he's starting to worry he's going to bruise.

"You're in no state to drive," Rachel replies. "Neither am I."

"Well, tomorrow then," Puck says. "I mean, after all that drama with your dads wanting you to break up with her and your refusal to do it and then you end it like a week later?"

"Your point?"

"No point," Puck says, trying to stay clear of Rachel's elbows. "Just an observation."

"Well keep your observations to yourself," Rachel replies sullenly.

"You're a mean drunk," Puck says.

"I don't want to be sad," Rachel tells him.

"Yeah, angry is way better." Puck finishes his Jack and Coke. "Besides, isn't that what chicks do? Eat ice cream, watch_Beaches_ and cry. I mean, it has Bette in it. She's good, right?"

"That it does," Rachel agrees. "I'm impressed Noah."

"Yeah, well, it's the movie my mom watches when she wants to cry."

"Yes, well she has good taste."

"So you just want to get drunk and watch Ultimate Fighting?" Puck asks.

"For now."

"You're a weird chick, bro."

**…**

Brittany wishes she hadn't agreed to Kailua milkshakes to make Santana feel better. Drunk, crying Santana weeping over a break up is a lot to handle. Thankfully, all Santana seems to want to do is curl up with Brittany and cry.

Santana's mom had stopped by earlier and offered her sympathies. It was sweet, but it started a fresh wave of wails.

Brittany really wishes she knew what the hell happened. She feels like she could be a better comfort that way. And then when Santana starts weeping about how it's all her fault, she'd maybe know how to respond.

Santana seems to have finally fallen asleep. Feeling a bit buzzed, Brittany extracts herself from Santana, so she can use the bathroom.

She runs into Clara as she's exiting the bathroom.

"How is she?" Clara asks.

"Sleeping."

"I just can't believe it," Clara continues.

"I know," Brittany nods. "They're so in love, it almost makes you sick, you know?"

Clara chuckles. "I can see that, yes."

"I'll probably be around all weekend," Brittany continues.

Clara nods. "I expected as much. Do you know what happened?"

Brittany shakes her head. "She won't tell me."

"Well, hopefully after some sleep, she'll feel up to it."

"Hopefully."

**…**

Saturday morning, Rachel wakes up early with a raging headache. She stumbles downstairs to drink lots of water and take aspirin. And then just leans against the kitchen counter. Normally at this point, she'd still get up and attempt to get through the morning; there are usually things she likes to do before Santana arrives. But the memory of her actions the day before are enough to kill any motivation she may feel.

So instead of rushing around the house, Rachel heads back up to her room with two bottles of water: one for her and one for Noah if he wants one.

She crawls back into bed and is immediately engulfed in Noah's arms.

"You okay bro?" he whispers. "You were gone a while. You didn't puke did you?"

"No," Rachel whispers back. "I went downstairs for some water and simply got lost in my thoughts."

"Ahhh," Noah whispers, eyes still closed. "Go back to sleep. Everything's better later in the day when you're not hung over."

It sounds logical enough, so Rachel snuggles under the covers and tries to fall back asleep.

**…**

Saturday morning, Santana wakes up surrounded by warmth. Her head hurts and her eyes feel dry. And then she remembers, Rachel dumped her.

Thankfully, she doesn't feel like crying immediately, so maybe she got most of it out last night. Groaning to herself, she starts to remember the night before. She really wishes she wasn't such a weepy drunk.

She feels a rush of affection for her best friend, though, for being there for her and just letting her be pathetic and sad. It was exactly what she needed.

Now she just needs to figure out her next step.

**…**

The next time Rachel wakes up, the sun is high in the sky. However, her head does feel better.

She's also alone in bed. Looking around she sees she's completely alone and feels a little sad. And then Rachel notices a note under her phone.

_R, mom demanded I come home to watch the kid sis. I'll check on you later. P_

Well, that's acceptable Rachel supposes, though she kind of wishes he would have woke her up before he left. But it was probably better to let her sleep; she feels much better.

Not sure what else to do, she hops on her elliptical for about an hour. She showers and heads downstairs to find something to eat. It's been a while since she's been alone in her house on a Saturday afternoon and so, despite the bright light shinning in, the house feels creepy.

She makes a spinach and tomato omelet and flops down on the couch. There's nothing on, so she finds the History Channel and leaves it there. She eats without really paying attention to the TV, just needing the noise.

Of course, once she's done, she doesn't know what to do. It's taking every bit of effort possible to not think about Santana or the break up for more than a moment or two. She's not ready to wallow yet.

Looking around, she sees a couple house cleaning projects she could take on. Leaving the TV on for company, she washes her dishes and then starts cleaning the house.

**…**

Santana is watching TV when Brittany wakes up. Blinking, the blonde is surprised to find her best friend, calmly stretched out on the bed, flipping through the channels. She looks sad, but at least she's not crying.

That has to be a good sign, Brittany thinks.

"Hey."

"Hey B."

"Anything good on?"

"A _Real Housewives_ marathon," Santana shrugs.

Brittany sits up and makes herself comfortable. "Sounds good."

**…**

When Noah does call, Rachel's almost finished cleaning the entire first floor. She never realized how much dust can gather. She supposes she hasn't been cleaning as much as she used to. It's not like her dads notice. They're not home enough and certainly never during the day.

"How's it going?" Noah asks, cautiously.

"Adequately, I suppose," Rachel replies.

"You don't sound hung over," Noah observes.

"Indeed," Rachel agrees. "Those extra hours of sleep were revitalizing. I almost feel like a new person."

"Are you high on endorphins?" Noah asks.

"No," Rachel replies. "Those have worn off. I am now on the high of accomplishment. I've managed to clean the entire first floor of my house in a mere few hours."

"Damn," Noah says. "Wanna come over and clean my room? My mom's been on my case."

"No thank you."

"So I've come up with the perfect plan for us," Noah continues.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Since you'd normally be, uh, occupied Saturday night, I thought we'd do something epically awesome."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But we'll need a couple other people."

"Well, I can make some suggestions," Rachel says.

"I was thinking Chang," Noah tells her. "You guys are cool, right?"

"Yes, Mike and I are on good terms. But what exactly are we doing?"

"I thought we'd get drunk and play urban golf. I'll grab a couple golf carts and use the random clubs in my garage."

"I don't think drinking and driving golf carts is a good idea," Rachel says.

"They do it on a regular golf course. It's not my fault urban golf is different," Noah replies. "Plus, we still need a fourth."

"I've never played golf before in my life."

"Me neither," Noah says. "But this is different. Come on, bro. It'll be fun."

"Why do we need four?"

"I don't know," Noah replies. "People just always go out with four."

"Fine," Rachel says. "I'll do it, but only if we walk. No drinking and driving. Besides, the last time we did something awesome with golf carts, my life flashed before my eyes."

"You escaped with minor bruises," Noah protests.

"No carts."

"Fine," Noah relents. "But you have to come up with a fourth."

"I don't know. What about Finn?"

"No way, he's not allowed anywhere near you," Noah replies.

"Still?"

"Trust me, Rach."

Rachel sighs. "Fine. The only other person I can think of at the moment is Marisa."

"That blonde freshman?"

"Yes, her."

"The one S slushied?"

"_Yes_. Her."

"Whatever. Call her. See if she has any clubs. Me and Chang will be over at like eight."

"I'll see you then," Rachel says.

**…**

"Wanna talk about it?" Brittany asks after a couple hours.

"What's there to talk about?"

"San…"

"She dumped me, B," Santana replies. "After all her declarations, she dumped me."

"You slushied someone," Brittany points out. "You know how she feels about that."

"It was just a reaction," Santana says. "And if I hadn't stumbled across a jock with a slushie, it probably wouldn't have happened."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was actually going to cut and go get one, but I ran into Bester and he had one, so I claimed it."

Brittany shakes her head. "Why didn't you just come find me?" she asks. "And then I could have talked you out of it."

"I should of," Santana admits. "I just let my jealousy get in the way."

"Well that was dumb."

"Thanks, Britt."

**…**

Marisa couldn't believe it when Rachel called and asked if she wanted to hang out with her and a couple of the glee guys. She had to hold back her squeal of excitement. It seems Rachel was serious about her offer of friendship.

She's currently watching TV and eating some odd vegan concoction Rachel swears by. It's not bad, just different.

She's also trying to fight off feeling intimated. Marisa knows Puck is like Rachel's best friend, but she's never really had a conversation with him. He's a bit of a legend at McKinley. Mostly for knocking up Quinn Fabray, but still.

At least she kind of knows Mike Chang, having talked to a couple times. He's a nice guy, quiet and funny.

It probably doesn't help that she's not quite sure what they're going to be doing. Marisa doesn't play golf, so she really doesn't know what urban golf is. But Rachel reassures her it's just going to be "frivolous fun" and nothing competitive.

"But I've never held a golf club in my life," Marisa protests.

"Not even a putter?" Rachel asks. "Mini golf?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't look anything like it looks on TV."

"Well no one else plays, so I think it'll be okay."

"If you say so."

**…**

Rachel is positive she will never be a golfer. Not that she ever thought she would be, but after just three holes, she knows irrefutably that she is terrible.

Thankfully, she's not the only one. Noah hits the ball way too hard and has lost three already. On the other end of the spectrum, Marisa is a bit too timid and has taken about a dozen swings per hole.

They're using tennis balls since they're easier to hit and keep track of. Plus, it seems that Noah couldn't find that many golf balls. But it doesn't seem like a big deal since they're just screwing around.

Mike seems to be a natural. He admits he's played before, but it was when he was much younger. Apparently his dad wanted him to be the Asian Tiger Woods, so he tried forcing on him, but with little success.

"I guess some of it stuck," Mike says, with a shrug and smile.

It's still kind of fun to wander around Lima, hitting tennis balls. They stick to secluded areas and away from place with lots of windows or other things that wouldn't appreciate being hit by a ball.

Noah is dragging around a golf bag/cooler on wheels and Rachel's pretty sure he just duct taped the two together earlier in the day. Still, it works, so who is she to criticize?

The alcohol is also probably helping. Noah's been giving her hard cider and it's not bad. She's already on her third. Slowing down has been brought up, but they're kind of tasty and according the label, a low percentage of alcohol.

"Yeah, but you're short and don't drink all the time," Noah points out.

Rachel doesn't care. She's having fun and everyone's always pushing her to loosen up more.

"You having fun?" Rachel asks Marisa.

"It's cool," Marisa replies.

"I know this may not be what you're expecting," Rachel says. "But-"

"Rachel," Marisa interrupts. "It's fine. I'm having a good time."

"Oh. Well, good then."

"I'm glad you called," Marisa continues. "I was afraid you were just saying you wanted to be friends to make me feel better about being slushied."

"Well I kind of did," Rachel says. "But I also meant it."

"Oh. Okay."

"You chicks done yet?" Noah interrupts. "It's Marisa's turn."

Marisa lines herself up with the white picket fence they've chosen as their target. She looks through the clubs and picks a five iron. She swings and the ball glides through the air, but stops when it hits a very old tree.

"Not bad," Noah says. "If you hit it right, you could get away with three or four shots."

"Well why do you keep picking shit that's so far away?" Marisa asks.

Noah shrugs.

"It's supposed to be far away," Mike chimes in. "So it's, you know, a challenge or something."

"Hmmm, still," Rachel says. "That's for people who are actually good at this game. Not beginners."

"Well we can't pick anything closer," Mike argues. "Not the way Puckerman hits. We should give him a wiffle ball instead."

"You're a wiffle ball, Chang," Noah retorts.

"Good one, bro," Rachel says, patting him on the back.

**…**

Sunday Brittany makes Santana leave the house. They meet Quinn at the mall because it's the only thing the blonde can get Santana agree to.

"How is she?" Quinn whispers as they window shop.

"Worse than she looks," Brittany whispers back.

Santana's vanity doesn't let her look upset, so while dressed casually in jeans, she doesn't look like she's spent the last thirty-six hours depressed.

"What happened?" Quinn asks.

"Santana got jealous and stupid," Brittany replies. "In that order."

"Figures." Quinn shakes her head. "Lopez doesn't realize a good thing."

"Actually it seems she did, Q," Brittany says. "She just underestimated what sort of reaction would be appropriate."

"That's an understatement," Quinn snorts.

"What are you bitches talking about?" Santana asks, sidling up to Brittany.

"Your stupidity," Quinn retorts.

"Save it Fabray," Santana replies. "I'm not taking relationship advice from _you_."

"Why not? You obviously don't listen to Brittany and she knows more than the two of us combined."

Brittany gets wide eyed at Quinn's statement. "Thanks Q," she says, hugging her.

Quinn blushes slightly. "Well it's true."

"All right then wise asses, how do I fix this?" Santana asks.

"Apologize," Quinn says.

"What? Just say I'm sorry I got so jealous?"

Quinn nods.

"It's Berry," Santana replies. "She's going to want something more than that. Don't you think?"

"Shouldn't you know?"

Santana growls. "I thought this was a brainstorming session."

"Oh. Is it? Okay, then."

"You're right, San," Brittany says. "It has to be something big."

"And should probably involve a song," Quinn adds.

"And romantic," Brittany throws out.

"And obviously tailored towards her," Quinn says. "Like something from a Streisand musical. Or something."

Santana sighs.

"We'll help you, San," Brittany says.

"Q doesn't have to," Santana tells Brittany.

"No," Quinn replies. "I'll help. If only to get you out of this funk. It's pathetic and annoying on you."

"Thanks, Q," Santana says. "Your support is overwhelming."

**…**

Rachel wakes up spooning Marisa while being spooned by Noah. She's used to waking up with Noah like this and she knows it means nothing. However, Rachel isn't sure how Marisa is going to interpret this. Being informed about the girl's crush, Rachel had decided to not even react or change her behavior. Having just ended it with Santana, Rachel can't even wrap her mind around another relationship. However, she also doesn't think of Marisa that way.

Deliberately slow, Rachel slow extracts Marisa from her arms. She then pushes Noah onto his back, so she's laying on top of him. From there she's able to half roll, half fall off the bed.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Rachel heads downstairs for some much needed coffee.

Waiting for it to finish, Rachel mulls over the night before; maybe she needs to cut back on the drinking. It is rather out of character for her. She supposes she's not dealing with this break up properly. Noah is right, she should probably be holed up in her room and crying, but the whole situation feels unnatural to her. It's almost like a dream; Rachel really never thought she and Santana would break up, but especially that _she'd_ be the one who ends it. It's _always_ the other way around.

Actually, Rachel thinks to herself, no one probably thought Rachel would be the one to end it.

Footsteps on the stairs draw Rachel out of her pensive thought. She looks up to see Marisa holding her cell phone.

"It keeps ringing," Marisa explains, handing it to Rachel.

"Sorry," Rachel replies. "I hope it didn't wake you."

"It's all right."

"Want some coffee?"

Marisa nods. Rachel pulls another mug out of the cupboard. Now that the coffee's done brewing, she pours them each some.

"Need anything?"

Marisa shakes her head as she goes the refrigerator and pulls out the milk. She pours some in her mug.

Rachel meanwhile digs out the brown rice syrup and pours some in her mug. She then checks her phone. There's a text from Mike, a missed call from Brittany, a missed call from her dad, and a text from Felix Lopez.

She checks her voice mail first. Brittany's is just her checking in and wanting to make sure Rachel is okay. Her dad's is about a package he was expecting yesterday and wants to know if it arrived. Mike's text just says he had fun and they should hang out again. And Felix's, well, surprisingly it's quite supportive.

_Little sister, I heard about you and baby sis from mom. Quite unfortunate. I hope the two of you can work it out. Give her a chance, you know how she can be sometimes. If you want to talk, I'm available. Felix. _

Well that is certainly unexpected. Rachel actually stares at her phone for a few moments.

"Problems?" Marisa asks.

Rachel mentally shakes herself; maybe she's a bit hung over. "No. No problem."

"Oh. Well you had a really weird look on your face."

"I'm sure I did," Rachel replies. "Just an unexpected text."

"Oh."

They lapse back into silence.

"Thanks for, uh, including me in that insanity last night," Marisa says finally. "I had a really good time."

"I'm glad," Rachel replies

"Do you and, uh, Puck do that sort of thing a lot?"

"Occasionally."

"What about your dads?" Marisa asks. "Won't they be mad that me _and_ Puck spent the night?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them," Rachel tells her.

"Oh."

There's a clamor on the stairs and Puck is suddenly standing in the doorway.

"What? No breakfast, bro?" he asks. "Come on, the Puckster totally needs some pancakes."

"You know where things are," Rachel tells him. "Make them yourself."

"That's no fun," Puck whines. "Besides, mine suck. Yours are awesome." He eyes Marisa. "Say-"

"Do not go there, Noah," Rachel interrupts. "Marisa is not making you breakfast."

"Ahhh. Fine," he replies. "We're going out for pancakes."

"Actually," Marisa says. "I should probably get home. I'm sure my mom needs my help."

"Right. Of course. We'll give you a ride home," Rachel says. "Ten minutes? That should give us all time to change."

"Okay."

"Works for me, bro."

**…**

"Hi San," Brittany exclaims, bouncing up to Santana, who's rooting through her locker Monday morning.

"Hey, B."

"I got you a present."

"Thanks," Santana replies.

"To cheer you up about Rachy," Brittany explains.

"Oh. Well, thanks."

Brittany holds up a black T shirt.

Santana reads it and chuckles. "Thanks, B. That's actually kinda funny."

"Yay! I knew you'd like it." Brittany hugs Santana. "Can I walk you to class?"

"Course," Santana replies, closing her locker.

Brittany offers Santana her pinky and the two start down the hall, as people part for them.

**…**

"So Berry, I heard you're finally free," Michelle Jamieson says, leaning against the locker next to Rachel's.

"Excuse me?"

"You and Lopez broke up."

"Oh. Yes. We did," Rachel confirms.

"Course, no one knows anything else," Michelle continues. "And that's saying a lot in this place."

"What's there to know? Santana and I are no longer dating."

"Oh please, don't act so innocent. A Cheerio dating a glee loser- I know she's in glee with you, but still," Michelle says. "We're all curious."

"Well, you'll just have to stay that way," Rachel retorts. "There's nothing to tell."

Michelle chuckles. "Somehow I doubt that."

"Yes, well, I suppose you'll just have to wonder."

"So does this mean I can take you out tonight?"

"It does not," Rachel replies.

"Come on, Berry," Michelle pushes. "You're single and hot. I'm single and hotter. You obviously have a thing for brunettes, so why not?"

"I'm sorry, but I still have no interest in going out with you," Rachel tells her.

Michelle smirks. "All right. But it's your loss." She straightens, winks and saunters down the hallway.

**…**

It's lunch and so Rachel is on her way to the choir room per usual when Brittany bounces up to her.

"Hey Rachel," she greets.

"Oh hello Brittany."

"How are you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected," Rachel replies.

"Oh. Okay."

"How's Santana?" Rachel asks quietly.

"Rachel, you broke up with her," Brittany points out.

"I know." Rachel sighs. "But you're looking out for her, right?"

Brittany nods.

"Good. I'm glad," Rachel replies quietly.

"I miss you though, Rach," Brittany says. "We should hang out today."

"Well I was going to hang out with Noah, today, Britt," Rachel replies.

"Oh. Well can we all hang?"

"If it's okay with Noah, it's fine with me."

"Okay," Brittany says. "See you later."

**…**

"Pucky," Brittany says as she sits down next to Puck at lunch.

"Don't call me that, Britt," Puck replies.

"You're hanging with Rachy this afternoon?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Can I hang too?"

"Well-"

"Come on, it'll be fun. Me and Rach will even make out in front of you if you want. But first base only."

"Uh…

"Good. See you this afternoon," Brittany says, jumping up. She waves before skipping away.

**…**

They still have lunch in silence, but this time, to Marisa it feels like a comfortable blanket. Even if Rachel isn't talking, she looks less sad which to Marisa is a start.

When the bell rings, Marisa jumps up. "Can I walk you to your next class?"

Rachel looks a little surprised, but pleased. "Yes, that would be lovely."

"Great." Marisa opens the choir room door for Rachel, who giggles slightly before exiting.

Marisa follows with a wide grin.

**…**

Brittany is sitting on Rachel's car after school.

"Britt," Rachel says. "I really rather you didn't do that."

"Why? I won't crush it. I'm not fat."

"I realize this," Rachel replies. "But I'm afraid you'll scratch it."

"Oh. Okay."

Brittany climbs in as Rachel buckles her seat belt.

Puck's already at Rachel's when they arrive.

"Yo bro. B."

"Pucky."

"Hello Noah."

Puck and Brittany settle on the couch while Rachel goes to get something to drink. She throws bottles of water at them when she returns and sits in between them on the couch.

"So?"

"Yes?" Rachel asks.

"Britt here promised me some girl on girl action if I let her hang with us-"

"_Brittany_."

"So get to it."

Brittany shrugs. "It worked, didn't it?"

"I'm really not in the mood to kiss anyone, yet," Rachel tells them. "It's a little too soon."

"Even if it's just for fun?" Brittany asks.

"Yes, even then."

"Ah jeez, didn't even think of that, bro," Puck says.

"Not even with me?" Brittany pouts.

Rachel gives a small smile. "Yes, Britt, even with you."

"Damnit," Puck grumbles.

"Can we just watch TV?" Rachel asks.

"Of course, Rachy," Brittany says, wrapping an arm around Rachel.

Puck reluctantly hands over the remote and settles in. "Could've at least got me a beer then," he grumbles.

Part Three

Santana opens her locker with a grimace. She's been brainstorming for almost two days and she still has no idea how to win Rachel back. She knows just singing a song in glee isn't going to work.

She wishes she were better at big romantic gestures or at least with coming up with big romantic gestures.

Closing her locker, she turns to head towards her first class when she sees Marisa and Rachel walking down the hall together. They're not holding hands or even touching, but they are remarkably close. Especially for someone who just ended a relationship less than a week ago.

Santana's right hand closes into a fist and she takes a step towards them, but stops herself. Blowing up at Marisa isn't the way to win Rachel back. She needs to come up with an idea. And quick.

**…**

"Why the long face, Lopez?" Puck asks sitting next to Santana at her deserted lunch table.

"Besides the obvious, Puckerman?" Santana snarls.

"Ah, don't be like that. You two are meant to be or whatever."

"Yaeh?"

"Hell yeah. You just have to apologize properly and you'll be good to go."

"That's the problem," Santana admits. "I haven't thought of anything good yet. Everything I think of is simple and cliché."

"Yeah, Rach is gonna need something big, but I have faith in you."

"Big?"

"Grand?" Puck sighs. "Not grand in size, but gesture."

"That makes no sense Puckerman."

"Sure it does," Brittany says sitting down next to Santana. "If it's romantic and sincere, Rach will go for it."

"See, B understands."

"Everything I think of is stupid," Santana replies.

"You'll just have to think harder then," Brittany tells her.

**…**

Last period, few students are paying attention in class. To them the teachers are droning on about things they don't care about. Many have fallen asleep while others doodle in their notebooks or in the margins of their books.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes into the class, those that are paying attention and looking forward witness the latest prank from the prankster.

Every single teacher standing in front of a class is hit with a flour bomb. The sound draws everyone's attention and those dozing off or daydreaming quickly join in the laughter of their peers who witnessed the whole scene.

Moments later the hall is full of teachers covered in flour and purple hair gel going somewhere to clean up.

Those that notice each other immediately come to the same conclusion.

"The prankster," Will mutters as he opens the door to the men's room. At least he has a spare set of clothes, he thinks. Being the last period it shouldn't matter, except that because it's Tuesday, they have glee.

By the time most of the teachers have returned to class there are only five minutes remaining. Most don't try to take control of their classes; instead simply sitting for the last five minutes before the bell rings. When it does, the students exit jubilantly, still laughing loudly.

**…**

No one can talk about anything other than the flour bombs. The fact that it hit a teacher in every classroom amazes everyone.

"Either the prankster is a genius," Kurt says. "Or it's more than one guy."

"Seriously," Mercedes agrees. "How the hell did he know?"

"He wouldn't have to be super precise," Artie interjects. "I think he took a chance and it paid off."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"If the flour bomb relied on impact to make it explode, he would have to be precise," Artie explains. "If it's a timed explosion, it just has to be in the vicinity to hit someone. Maybe that's why there was the hair gel inside too, to help carry the lightweight flour to its intended target."

Kurt and Mercedes stare at Artie for a moment.

"What?" he asks. "Tina agrees."

Kurt and Mercedes turn to Tina sitting between them.

"It just makes sense," she says, trying not to blush because of their combined stare.

"Huh," Kurt says. "Maybe you two are the prankster."

"Say that again, Kurt," Tina replies.

"It makes sense," Kurt continues. "You're both smart, good at figuring that stuff out and because we're not popular, people don't really pay attention to us, so you could totally pull it off."

"That's a nice theory, Kurt," Artie says. "Except how the hell did the two of us pull off the castle prank?"

"Dunno," Kurt shrugs. "With some help."

"I _wish_I knew where to get a catapult," Tina comments.

"Me too," Puck says plopping into a seat near by.

They all look at him.

"What? Catapults are cool."

"Thanks for the input, Puckerman," Mercedes says.

"I'm starting a betting pool," Puck adds. "On who the prankster is."

"Cause you know?" Artie asks.

"Course not," Puck replies. "But no one knows, so the bets would be all over the place and I'm sure I'd be able to cover it."

"Seriously?" Mercedes questions.

"I'll put twenty on Tina and Artie," Kurt interjects.

Puck pulls out a piece of paper and jots it down. Kurt hands him a twenty.

"Kurt, really," Tina says. "You don't think it's us?"

"I stand by my bet."

"Well then I'm putting twenty on Rachel," Finn says joining them.

"Still, Finn?" Kurt asks. "Give it up. We all _know_it's not Rachel Berry. Just because she dated Santana doesn't make her a badass."

"Don't talk shit about my bro," Puck says.

"I'm just saying, I don't think it's Rachel," Kurt finishes.

Puck pulls out his paper again and jots down Finn's bet after taking Finn's money.

"Anyone else?" Puck asks.

"I still think it's you and Santana," Mr. Schue says, handing over a twenty.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Schue," Santana says as she sits.

"It makes more sense than Rachel," Mercedes throws in.

"I agree," Rachel says, sitting as far from Santana as possible.

"You have a bet, bro?"

"Certainly not," Rachel replies. "As I simply don't care about the identity of the prankster."

"Course not," Kurt snorts.

"I simply believe our time could be better spent practicing instead of musing over the identity of someone who disrupts our school days. Don't you Mr. Schue?"

"Rachel's technically correct guys," Mr. Schue says. "Why don't we get started?"

**…**

Santana sits in her car and watches as her girlfriend drives away with Marisa Lawson. Again.

"Nothing's going on," Brittany says, sitting in the passenger seat.

"Yeah, well, somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

"I mean, it's way too soon," Brittany continues. "She wouldn't even make out with me yesterday."

"What the hell, Britt?"

"What? It's not like I was going after her, San."

Santana sighs. "I know, B. I know. I just miss her."

"We'll just have to come up with a really good way to get her back, right?"

"Exactly."

"Oh god," Quinn groans from the backseat. "Are you ladies done yet? Can we please leave? Before I drown in your drama?"

"Shut up Fabray," Santana snarls. "You can walk home for all I care."

"It might be worth it," Quinn snarks as Santana starts her car.

**…**

Santana is attempting homework after dinner when there's a knock on her door.

"Yeah?"

The door opens to reveal Mrs. Lopez. "You have a moment, San?"

"I guess," Santana says, putting down her pencil. "Homework is dumb anyway."

Mrs. Lopez comes in and sits on Santana's bed. "I was wondering if you wanted to talk. About Rachel."

Santana groans.

"I know as your mother you're not allowed to talk to me, but this break up came out of nowhere to your papa and I. Did we miss something? Or did the two of you put on an elaborate show for us?"

"What? No way," Santana says. "What Rachel and I have-had, whatever, it's real."

"Then what happened?"

"I really don't want to talk about it," Santana replies.

"I'm only asking because I really like Rachel. Your papa does too. We're just concerned about what drove away a girl who seemed head over heels for you," Mrs. Lopez explains.

"I still don't want to talk about it," Santana says.

"I promise I won't get upset or judge," Mrs. Lopez assures her.

"I got jealous and reacted badly which upset Rachel enough to break up with me," Santana admits, finally.

"I see."

"I know I over reacted."

"What did you do?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

"I'd rather not say," Santana says.

"That bad?"

"Definitely in Rachel's eyes," Santana answers.

"She's obviously in love you with," Mrs. Lopez says. "Maybe you just need to give her a little time. Once she's had a chance to cool down, you can apologize again. And then you can work on your temper."

"I can't help that I'm possessive," Santana defends. "I see someone going after what's mine and I react."

"I've been hoping that dating someone a bit more level headed would even out your temper a bit,' Mrs. Lopez says.

"Whatever," Santana replies. "Rachel's a bit _too_ level headed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"After that whole thing with her dads, she was able to brush it off with a few dozen words. I mean, I know it bugs her. She opened up a little when she was explaining the situation, but after it was all over, it's like she didn't even care. It's not that I want her to be upset, but the girl who was talking about her childhood and crying was real. She didn't just disappear because her dads did again. There's no way she's okay with being rejected by her dads. Who would be?"

"Do you get to be so judgmental?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "You've said it yourself, Rachel never really had a support system, friends. She's probably not used to having someone she can confide in."

"Maybe."

"And why do you get to dictate how she feels or react? Yes, it may not be the most healthy, but it's her way. Rachel's intelligent enough to know she needs to deal with things. Maybe she's just not ready. What she really needs is patience and someone who's there for her."

"Yeah, well, she ended that, didn't she?"

Mrs. Lopez sighs. "Santana, life isn't always easy. Things don't happen the way you hope or plan. Sometimes adjustments have to be made. Because things still have a way of working out."

"Yeah?"

"They do," Mrs. Lopez assures her.

"You really think so?"

"Of course. Just give it some time."

"Thanks mom."

"Thanks for opening up," Mrs. Lopez says, pulling Santana into a hug.

**…**

"Hey Rach, how's it going?"

"Oh hi, Mike," Rachel replies. "I'm fine. Thank you. And how are you?"

"All right. Wednesday, you know?"

"I do indeed."

"So I was wondering what you're up to this afternoon?"

"Nothing specific," Rachel replies.

"Well I teach dancing to a bunch of ten year olds at the community center and I was wondering if you'd want to help me?" Mike asks.

"I suppose I could," Rachel says.

"Today I'm doing a lot of partner dancing like the waltz, foxtrot, that sort of thing. So a partner that knows what she's doing would be pretty cool."

"Yes, that sounds like a lot of fun actually."

"Well, I don't know if fun is the right word. They're better than a lot of ten year olds because a lot of them want to be in show business, so they want to be there, but they're still ten year olds. You know?" Mike explains.

"Still, it would be my pleasure to assist you this afternoon," Rachel tells him.

"Cool. Uh, I'll meet you after the bell and you can follow me?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay, well I gotta talk to Coach before first," Mike says. "Later?"

"See you later."

**…**

Marisa decides she's tired of eating lunch in silence. At first it was nice to just be in Rachel's presence, but now that they've actually hung out and had real conversations, Marisa feels like lunch time should be similar. She just isn't sure what to say.

"Hey, do you want to hang out on Saturday?" she asks finally.

"Saturday?"

"Yeah, my mom has to work all day, so I have to stay around the house and keep an eye on my brothers. I thought you could come over and we could have some sort of marathon. I was thinking some older MGM musicals, The Music Man, Singing in the Rain, Easter Parade."

"That does sound like fun," Rachel replies. "And having an appreciation for the classics is definitely important. Okay deal. I'll bring the snacks."

"And any others you might think of," Marisa adds.

"Of course."

**…**

After school, Rachel quickly gathers her things and goes to meet Mike. She's rather excited. She's not the best at partner dancing, but she knows the basics and she can follow a lead. Plus hanging out with Mike is rather fun.

He waves as he approaches his car and so Rachel climbs into hers to follow him. It's not that she doesn't know where the community center is; she spent a large portion of her youth there taking various classes. However, it is a big building and she wouldn't know where to go, so it just seems easier to follow Mike.

They park next to each other and head inside. It is a maze of twists and turns before they finally end up in a corner room. Mike goes to the CD player and sets it up with his various discs so it'll be easy to switch genres.

Rachel watches the kids trickle in. She has to agree with Mike, all the kids looks like they want to be there.

"Okay guys, settle down," Mike says.

The dozen ten year olds sit on the floor.

"This is my friend Rachel," Mike continues, gesturing to Rachel who curtseys. "She's going to help me show you some partner dances."

A hand is raised.

"Yes Lindsey?"

"What kind of dances?"

"Just some classics," Mike explains. "The Waltz of course. Foxtrot, quickstep, maybe. Samba for sure. Maybe some moves from the English country dance and some modern swing. If you guys were a little older, I'd show you the tango, but that might be too much touching."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the boy next to Lindsey asks.

"I'll show you a bit of the dance and then you guys can tell me if you want to try it," Mike says. "Rach?"

Rachel nods and joins Mike.

"I forgot to ask if you feel comfortable with this," Mike says as they position themselves.

"Well, I'll admit I didn't plan on performing _this_ particular dance, but it's fine."

Mike smiles and begins to count.

They only get through a few steps before Lukas, the boy sitting next to Lindsey calls out. "Okay we get it."

Mike and Rachel pause.

"So we agree," Mike asks. "No tango?"

The kids all nod.

"Okay, pick your partner and we'll get started. And contrary to what I did, try to pick a partner who's about your height. It helps the first time you're learning." Mike glances over at Rachel. "Don't look at me like that," he tells her. "You know it's true."

"You're lucky I like you _and_ dancing, Chang."

"I really appreciate it, Berry," Mike smirks. Seeing the kids are paired up, he turns to them. "Okay, so we'll start with the waltz."

**…**

Thursday Santana hears rumblings that Rachel left with Mike Chang after school. Even though she knows there's nothing going on there, the jealousy is still rising.

She blames it on Brittany making her sit at the glee table.

Kurt and Mercedes are at the far end, trying to quietly gossip, not wanting to face Santana's wrath.

"How can no one know what they were up to?" Kurt asks.

"I don't know," Mercedes answers. "Neither are very talkative."

"Rachel Berry?"

"At the moment," Mercedes clarifies. "Besides, Rachel never shares with us."

"Well, I suppose that's true."

"You really don't think they went out, like on a date, do you?" Mercedes asks. "I mean it's only been like a week."

"Maybe Rachel is looking for a new leading man."

"But it's only been a week."

"A clean and total break," Kurt suggests.

"That's way harsh."

Santana fights the urge to bang her head on the table. She turns to Brittany and Quinn who rehashing Cheerios' practice.

"Just ignore them, S," Brittany says when Santana lays her head on her shoulder. "Rach wouldn't do that to you."

"Yeah, Berry's just trying to distract herself," Quinn adds.

"Maybe."

**…**

Thursday glee is anything, but gleeful. Mr. Schue is apparently back to being slushied daily and so his enthusiasm is waning. Rachel tries her best to keep the energy level up, but it's difficult when she's not feeling it either.

Santana and Rachel's break up has caused a weird tension in the room. No one's necessarily made the distinction, including Rachel and Santana, but they can all feel the effects.

Today when they rehearse, it's all very mechanical. The usual free flowing, casual environment is replaced by a sterile room where everyone does what they're supposed to with no improv and nothing unexpected happens.

Rachel feels creatively stifled, which she knows is a bit egotistical about being a singer in a high school glee club. Mostly it just leaves her feeling unsatisfied with the experience. She, and the others, leave with an air of discontent.

**…**

Santana watches Marisa get into Rachel's car _again_ after glee.

"That girl is totally making a move on her," Santana grumbles.

"Nothing's happening," Brittany says. "Do you need me to say that every day?"

"Maybe."

"Nothing's going on," Brittany repeats. "Have you thought of how you're going to win her back yet?"

"Nothing that'll work."

"I think you should serenade her," Brittany says as Santana pulls out of the parking lot.

"That won't be enough."

"Maybe," Brittany shrugs. "But it'll be a start. You're going to have to start doing something soon or you _are_ going to lose her."

"Fine. A serenade. Now I just have to come up with a song."

**…**

Friday afternoon, Will is eager to leave for the day. It's been a long week and he could use some extended time away from McKinley.

However, when he reaches his car, he's dismayed to find it filled half way with blue raspberry slushie.

He groans. Apparently he shouldn't have left his back window open. He unlocks the passenger side door and opens it. A waterfall of icy blue sweetness pools around his shoes and ankles. Of course, it doesn't get all of it. He forced to go back inside and return with a bucket and a shovel.

Will scoops out the backseat with the bucket as well as the passenger side. He uses the shovel to get some of the driver's side. He then returns the bucket and shovel before returning with some painter's plastic he found stashed in the back of the janitor's closet.

He drives to a car rental agency and rents a car. He then calls a tow truck and has his car towed to a very detailed oriented car wash he knows. He calls ahead and explains the situation.

Because it's Lima, they're used to getting an occasional call like this, so they quote him a price and tell him when they'll be finished. With a sigh, Will climbs into his brand new, bright red Ford Focus and drives the rental home.

**…**

It's late and Rachel is contemplating dragging Noah to bed because she's not sure she can watch any more _Death Race_movies. Watching the original and the remake is _kind of_ interesting, but she's really not in the mood for the sequel or prequel or however one wants to refer to it.

When suddenly she hears music coming from her front yard. Standing, she goes to the front door. Listening more intently, she can definitely make out someone singing; someone rather familiar.

Opening the door reveals Santana in her yard with Artie by her side, playing his guitar.

_…Do you know you take my heart through the door__  
>Are there words to tell you what I live for<em>

_I don't want to lose you  
>I don't want to lose you<br>I don't want to lose you_

Rachel isn't sure what's surprising her the most about this performance. There's the song choice, Air Supply doesn't seem like something Santana would be familiar with. Or there's Artie's accompaniment; both his participation and Santana asking him are surprising. And third, the emotion that Santana seems to be putting forth. The slowed down, melancholy version she's witnessing right now is quite heartfelt and it's taking every bit of will power Rachel has not to run to Santana.

_…I don't want to lose you___

_Is it true, you are leaving what you believe  
>Part of you, will always be with me<em>

_I don't want to lose you  
>I don't want to lose you<br>I don't want to lose you_

Noah has joined her at some point and they're both sitting on the front step, just listening and watching as the music concludes. Noah claps enthusiastically, while Rachel is a bit more subdued.

Santana obviously knows the song isn't enough. Rachel knows because otherwise she'd already be swept up in Santana arms.

"That was lovely, San," Rachel says quietly. "And Artie that was fantastic playing. I've never heard the song quite like that."

"Thanks Rach," Artie says. He awkwardly wheels himself over, the grass causing some issues. "You really should give her another chance. She put a lot of effort into this."

"I'm sure she did, but I'm just not ready."

"All right," Artie replies. "But you guys are better together than you are apart."

Rachel smiles. "Thanks Artie. I promise to give it serious thought."

Artie wheels himself to the car, which Rachel has just noticed is sitting in her driveway. She can make out Brittany in the driver's seat.

Rachel takes a few steps towards Santana. "That was amazing," she says. "And I appreciate the gesture, but it's unfortunately not enough."

Santana sighs. "I figured as much, but a girl has to try. Right?"

Rachel nods.

"You know, I really am sorry, babe."

"I know you are," Rachel replies. "I'm just not ready yet. Can you understand that?"

Santana nods. "I can. I guess I should be going."

Rachel nods again. As Santana walks to the car, Rachel turns and waves at Brittany who exuberantly waves back.

"That was pretty good, bro," Noah says as Rachel and he walk back into the house.

"I know," Rachel agrees. "But just as I told San, I'm not ready yet. Slushing people is a big deal to me."

"Yeah, makes sense."

**…**

Santana wakes up Saturday morning and immediately wishes she hadn't. When her serenade of Rachel didn't work out, she and Britt headed back to the Lopez residence and drank.

She's definitely hung over and her body is still waking her up early on a Saturday. Going over to Rachel's early has become a habit and one her body isn't aware has changed.

She gets up to pee and drink some water. The house is quiet and so she ventures down stairs for some bottles of water.

There's a note on the fridge.

_Santana, try not to spend the whole day in bed. It's a lovely day out. Take Brittany to the park or something. Keep busy. Love, mom._

It's an odd note, but she appreciates the sentiment. Heading back upstairs with two bottles of water, Santana thinks her mom might be right, though she'd never admit it.

In her room, Brittany has claimed as much as the bed as possible. She sets one water bottle on Brittany's side of the bed and the other on hers. She pushes her best friend over and crawls back into bed, definitely needing more sleep.

**…**

Saturday morning, Rachel rises with a purpose. She does her usual weekend cleaning and then looks through her musicals. She grabs _Oklahoma_, _Kiss Me Kate_, _Hello Dolly_, and _Oliver!_ to bring over to Marisa's; just to have more options.

Having spent many hours at Marisa's, Rachel is comfortable enough to simply ring the bell and walk in. Tyler and Calvin are in the family room playing video games as usual. Mrs. Lawson is in the kitchen pour coffee into a travel mug and Marisa is at the table eating cereal.

"Oh hello, Rachel, dear," Mrs. Lawson says, turning around. "Are you spending the day?"

"I am."

"Well then I'll see you tonight. Will you be staying for dinner?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead, actually," Rachel replies.

"So that's a yes, then," Mrs. Lawson says. "I'll see you girls later."

"Bye mom," Marisa says through bites of cereal.

"I brought a few more musicals," Rachel tells Marisa, holding them up.

"Cool. Choices are good."

"Where are we watching?"

"Up in my room?" Marisa suggests. "It's easier than trying to argue with the little brothers."

"They are rather intense about their games," Rachel agrees.

Marisa puts her cereal bowl in the sink and heads upstairs with Rachel trailing behind her.

Rachel hands over her selections and smiles at the pleased look on Marisa's face.

"Do you mind if we start with _The Music Man_?" Marisa asks.

"That sounds just fine," Rachel replies, settling on the bed.

Marisa puts the DVD in the player and joins Rachel on her bed.

**…**

Santana cannot believe she's spending her Saturday night hanging out with her fellow Cheerios. She could kill Quinn for suggesting a bonding night. Displeased with their performances the past week, Coach Sylvester gladly agreed. Of course that means she's expecting perfection on Monday. Santana hopes they can deliver.

They're at Stacey Hudson's because her parents are out of town for the weekend.

Santana doesn't understand how sitting around with her fellow Cheerios and drinking can be considered bonding. The more she hangs out with these bitches, the more she doesn't want to. The male Cheerios aren't much better.

"Hi San," Brittany says, plopping down next to her.

"Hey Britt," Santana replies, sipping her drink. She has no intention of getting drunk. There's no way she wants to be weepy or vulnerable around these vultures.

"Having fun?"

"No. You?"

"It's okay."

"I'd rather be at Rachel's."

"Well, then you'll have to come up with a better plan than the serenade," Brittany tells her.

"I know. I'm just having this weird like block of ideas. Nothing I think of seems good enough," Santana explains.

"Then we'll just have to have a brainstorm session tomorrow. Me and you."

"Yeah?" Santana asks.

"You and Rachy need to be back together already."

"Well that's certainly true," Quinn says flopping down on the other side of Santana.

"Really?"

"I never realized how pathetic you are without her," Quinn replies.

"You're a really great motivation speaker," Santana snaps.

"A raging-"

"Do you have any ideas Quinn?"

Quinn sighs. "Britt, I'd really rather not, okay?"

"Right. Sorry. Forgot. Drinking."

"It's fine."

"Can we just skip all the emotional bullshit," Santana interjects. "And be catty bitches? Because there's too much going on here, not to."

Quinn looks around the room. In the corner she can see two freshmen, one blonde, the other a redhead, making out. There's some a lot of grinding on the dance floor and at least two people are passed out, one has a mustache, glasses and a goatee drawn on her.

Quinn groans. "Seriously?"

"See what I mean?"

"Why did I suggest this again?"

"My question as well, Q."

Part Four

Michelle Jamison is waiting for Rachel Monday morning.

"Morning," Rachel greets.

"Berry," Michelle replies. "It's the beginning of another week of you being unattached."

"Thank you for the update."

"So you're still not gonna give me a chance?"

"Michelle," Rachel says. "You and I both know you don't really mean that. You just like tweaking Santana."

"Perhaps," Michelle admits. "However, what's up with you and the little blonde freshman? Tell me you didn't turn _me_ down for _her_."

"Okay. Then I won't."

"Berry, seriously? A freshman?"

"Marisa and I are just friends," Rachel informs Michelle.

"Uh huh, whatever you say, Berry," Michelle replies.

**…**

Santana's ire rises Monday morning when she sees Michelle Jamieson leaning into Rachel at her locker. Only this time there's nothing she can do about it. This time she has no claim over Rachel. Watching the interaction, Santana can almost see the smirk of arrogance on Jamieson's face.

Brittany actually wraps their finger together, not just their pinkys and leads Santana away.

"We'll think of something, San," she whispers.

Santana just nods.

**…**

When Will is gathering his things at the end of the day, he's still wary of being slushied. He wish he knew what set off the slushier, because the randomness is quite disconcerting.

He opens his desk drawer for papers he needs to grade and is treated to a squirt gun slushie facial.

Blue raspberry. He sighs and wipes his face clean with his hand. It's late enough that he simply dries off with the towel in his desk before heading out.

**…**

"You know, if you ever decide you don't want to be a star, you'd be a good teacher," Mike tells Rachel Monday afternoon.

They're hanging out at Rachel's. Mike was curious about her knife throwing.

"Wednesday did go rather well, didn't it?" Rachel replies.

"I just never pictured Rachel Berry good with kids," Mike says.

"Well, I was just like them when I was younger," Rachel explains. "Well, I was a bit more advanced talent wise, but that same sort of attitude and hunger, that I understand. I'm fairly certain it'd be different if I was a school teacher." Rachel throws three knives in quick succession. They form a triangle. "And if I gave up my dream, I'm not sure I wouldn't resent them for still having only possibilities in front of them. Does that make me a horrible person?"

"No. It's incredibly self aware and very honest."

"Yes, well, it still makes me sound rather selfish," Rachel replies.

"I'd call you frank," Mike says.

"I'd rather be called Rachel," she replies.

Mike smirks. "Can I try?"

"Sure, but don't tell Noah."

Mike's smirk grows.

**…**

Tuesday morning, Will walks into his office, whistling Journey and hopeful about the day. This ends quickly as a slushie drops on him from the ceiling. And when he looks up to find the source, a second one barrels down on him. He just has time to close his eyes before it hits.

He's a bit numb to it after getting hit with the first, but it fully covers his face, hair and neck which is very sticky. He grimaces and tastes blue raspberry. He almost misses the grape since it's slightly easier to get out of clothes and for some reason feels slightly less sticky.

He gets up with a resigned sigh, grabs his spare clothes and heads for the bathroom.

**…**

After hanging out all day Saturday, Marisa feels she's making progress with Rachel.

"We're friends, right Rach?" Marisa asks.

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I don't spend all day watching musicals with just anyone."

"Oh. I suppose not."

"Besides, now that you've experienced a slushie, we have a common bond."

"I guess that's one thing to come out of it," Marisa says.

"I realize it's not a club a person wants to belong to, but that's McKinley," Rachel tells her.

**…**

Tuesday glee is more productive. Rachel is feeling more positive about her week, though she blames that entirely on looking forward to pranking than anything else. She's decided to keep her moving on philosophy and avoid looking Santana's way at all costs; because when she does her heart pounds wildly before clenching tightly in her chest.

She knows she needs to deal with the break up, but there always seems to be something else to do. At least that's what she tells herself.

**…**

Wednesday at lunch Brittany receives a text.

_B, you, Santana and Becky shouldn't bother going into the locker room before Cheerios' practice. The Prankster_

Brittany sighs. She's glad for the heads up, but she wishes Santana and Rachel had made up by now. Then the three of them plus Puck could sit around later and chat about Rachel's pranks and maybe Santana's slushing of Mr. Schue.

Maybe tomorrow she and Puck can try getting them back together again, she thinks as she stands, looking for Santana.

Spotting her across the lunch room, she quickly makes her way over and explains the text she just got. Santana gets a sad look in her eyes before nodding her head.

Wanting to say more, but not knowing what to say and knowing Santana wouldn't up at school anyway, Brittany just nods back and goes to find Becky.

**…**

Wednesday afternoon after school, Will steps into his office and slumps into his desk. Today was a particularly long day and all he wants to do is go home. Unfortunately, he has a few things to take care of before he can leave.

Thinking only of getting out of there as soon as possible, the slushie squirt gun that hits him directly in the face takes him completely by surprise.

He actually sputters as the icy, sweet liquid drips off his face onto his desk. It's blue raspberry again, so he reluctantly doesn't wipe it on his shirt sleeve. Instead, he reaches into his right bottom drawer and pulls out a towel, which he uses to wipe his face clean. He then runs it through his hair before tossing it on the floor. He'll take it home and wash it so he can be prepared for the next attack.

**…**

Santana, Brittany and Becky are the first ones on the field, having stuffed their things in a locker and scurrying out. Coach Sylvester starts to look annoyed when people aren't on the field five minutes early per usual. When they're officially one minute late, Coach Sylvester begins bellowing through her bullhorn at them.

All three girls know the bullhorn _can_ be heard in the locker room, but not very well. So none of them expect the Coach's orders to be heard. It would probably also help if they knew what exactly was going on.

When the others are a full five minutes late, Coach turns to the three standing on the field.

"What makes you three so special?"

"You already know the answer to that Coach!" Brittany yells back.

The bullhorn is dropped a moment. Santana counts to sixty-seven before it's brought back up.

"All right then, blondie, go investigate what's keeping those failures!"

"Right Coach," Brittany salutes.

Becky looks around as Brittany runs off to investigate.

"Where's Quinn?" she whispers.

"Not here today," Santana whispers back.

"Oh."

"What?"

"At first I thought you just didn't warn her," Becky explains. "And I couldn't figure out why."

"Oh. Okay."

Brittany runs up a moment later.

"Well?" Sue yells.

"They're cleaning up, Coach," Brittany says. "I guess like twenty flour bombs went off. Everyone's covered in flour and hair gel, except I guess there was red dye inside, cause everyone's kinda pinkish."

"This I have to see," Santana mutters. She steps next to Brittany. "Permission to go look and laugh Coach."

Coach Sylvester comes down and joins them on the field.

"It sounds like an excellent field trip," she says. "Let's all go."

The three girls fall in step behind Coach Sylvester as they march towards the locker room.

When they arrive, it's chaos. Girls are running around, crying, cursing and all desperately trying to clean up. The room itself looks like it's been doused in red Kool-Aid.

Surprisingly, Coach doesn't say anything, but simply watches. The three girls watch as a small grin appears. However, it's gone very quickly and Santana is beckoned over.

"Yeah Coach?"

"Your girlfriend may be a genius, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says quietly. "Look at this pandemonium."

"Ex," Santana mutters.

"Yes, I'd heard rumors," Coach Sylvester confirms. "I was hoping it was just talk. Well, whatever you did, apologize for it and give the girl flowers or whatever Berry thinks is romantic. And do it quick before that freshman steals her right from under your nose."

Santana can only stare.

"Shut your mouth, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "You're letting flys in."

"Course Coach. Right."

**…**

"What if we got a string quartet to back you up?" Brittany asks. "Or a jazz band?"

"Too similar."

"Sky writing?"

"That's a little too personal to put up in the sky for all Lima to see," Santana replies.

"You could write her a song," Brittany suggests.

"Maybe, but I don't think I'd be too good at it."

"Poetry?"

"Same thing."

"Shakespeare?"

"Hmmm," Santana replies. "Maybe. Let's see if I still have a copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ laying around.

**…**

Will has been sitting at his desk for nearly fifteen minutes when he's hit with a slushie Thursday morning. He's so resigned to it, that he simply closes his eyes and mouth before reaching for his freshly laundered towel. Once most of the blue raspberry is out of his eyes and hair, he grabs his spare clothes and heads to the bathroom.

Maybe he should invest in one of those quarantine suits they have in movies. Maybe it'd insulate him from other annoying aspects of McKinley as well. Somehow he doubts it.

**…**

Thursday Mike Chang joins them for lunch and Marisa wants to resent him for invading her one on one with Rachel. However, it's difficult when he's so sweet and funny. Plus, he gets this amazing smile out of Rachel when he talks about them dancing together. Marisa fights her jealousy. As far as Marisa knows, Rachel has no interest in Mike Chang romantically, but watching them spin around the room together, it's hard not to be jealous.

**…**

Meanwhile, Kurt and Mercedes are desperately analyzing the flour bombs hitting all the Cheerios the day before. While the girls suffered most of it, the guys received similar treatment with a dozen or so flour bombs filled with red food coloring dropping on their heads.

However, Kurt once again escaped it; as did Brittany, Santana and Becky. Quinn was gone Wednesday, but both Mercedes and Kurt assume she would have been spared as well.

"It has to be Santana," Kurt says. "She's protecting her own."

"And you?" Mercedes asks.

"She knows Rachel would be upset if I was hit too," Kurt explains.

"Even though they're broken up?" Mercedes questions.

"Santana's trying to win her back," Kurt replies.

"How?"

"Why do you think there's an increase of pranks?" Kurt asks. "She's trying to impress her."

"Pranks? Really?"

"It's Santana," Kurt shrugs.

**…**

Quinn didn't think it was possible, but she really wish Rachel would just forgive Santana already, so they could get back together. She supposes that means she's really truly over Rachel.

"Or you've realized the inevitable," Brittany says joining Quinn on the bleachers for lunch.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That Santana and Rachel belong together," Brittany explains. "Being who they are, there's probably more drama in their future, but they'll still end up together."

"It's been two weeks," Quinn points out. "I thought for sure, Berry would have caved this past week."

"Two weeks isn't _that_ long, Quinn."

"It is in high school time," Quinn replies.

Brittany smiles. "I suppose that's true. But give 'em a bit more time. You'll see."

"Goody," Quinn mutters.

"It'll be okay, Quinn," Brittany says. "We'll figure you out next."

"That'll definitely take longer than two weeks."

**…**

It's lunchtime and Will's made it this far in the day without being slushied. He knows it's coming, but he hopes it's more towards the end of the day, so he can just go home and clean up. A shower is really the only satisfying way to remove all the dried, sticky sweetness.

Unfortunately, luck is not on his side today. He is hit just as he sits in his chair to eat. With a sigh, he stands. It seems half of his lunch is going to be spent cleaning up. Again.

**…**

"Please tell me you've got something planned for tonight, bro," Puck says in lieu of a greeting Friday night.

"I want to do a lot more pranking this week."

"Seriously?" Puck asks. "Cause you got the Cheerios pretty good Wednesday."

"I know," Rachel smirks. "It's not enough though. I need more."

"Uh, okay."

"What?"

"You sound a little like an insane cartoon villain is all," Puck explains.

"Oh. Is that good or bad?"

"Just an observation, bro."

"So you'll help me?" Rachel asks.

"Course," Puck replies. "What else am I going to do?"

**…**

Santana isn't up for hanging out Friday night. She tells B to go out and have fun.

"Are you sure, San?" Brittany asks. "I mean, I don't mind. I like hanging with you."

"Even when I'm being all pathetic and emo?"

"Quinn said that, not me," Brittany answers.

"I notice you didn't deny it, though."

Brittany sighs. "If you're sure…"

"I am."

"All right," Brittany replies. "I'll see if Quinn's up for doing anything."

"Have fun, Britt."

**…**

It's a little early; only early evening, but Santana can't wait anymore. She drives to Rachel's arms with flowers and a pocket full of pebbles.

When she arrives she walks around to the back of the house and can see that Rachel's in her room. She begins to throw the pebbles at the window. One. Hit. Two. Miss. Three. Miss. Four. Hit.

And then Rachel's window opens. She looks down and sees Santana. She shakes her head and begins to close her window.

Santana knows she doesn't have much time, so she just jumps in.

"But, soft! What light through yonder window break? It is the east, and Rachel is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief. That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing; what of this? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven-"

"That was lovely," Rachel interrupts.

"I have a bit more actually," Santana says. "I'm surprised you let me get this far."

"I was curious how much you'd memorized," Rachel answers.

"A lot," Santana tells her.

"I appreciate the sentiment," Rachel replies. "However, I will be closing my window now." Rachel's head disappears and the window is closed.

Santana sighs and walks around front to her car, before driving home.

**…**

Rachel spends the rest of the evening staring out the window at the spot Santana had stood. She had been completely floored that Santana would recite Shakespeare to her. It was not the expected next step of the wooing process. But Santana does manage to surprise her plenty, which she loves.

Rachel sighs. She really misses her girlfriend.

**…**

Santana lays at her bed, staring at the ceiling. It took a while to come up with that idea. It's probably going to take a whole week to come up with something else. Part of her wonders if it's even worth the effort. Rachel's so stubborn; if she's going to forgive Santana, it'll be done when Rachel's ready and not a moment sooner.

She hopes it's sooner rather than later. She really misses her girlfriend.

**…**

"Judging by the expression you're wearing, I'm guess Rachel won't be joining us this evening," Mr. Lopez says as Santana sits down the dinner Sunday night.

Santana shakes her head.

"Are you ever going to tells what occurred?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

Santana shakes her head again.

"I see," he says. "Are you doing anything to get her back?"

"Of course, papa," Santana replies.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Lopez wait for their daughter to explain.

Finally after a minute, Mrs. Lopez asks, "Well?"

Santana sighs. "It's not going as well as I'd hope."

"Perhaps you should watch more romantic comedies," Mrs. Lopez suggests.

"No way," Santana says. "Too cliché."

"So?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "Rachel did it. Why can't you?"

"You saw that?"

Mrs. Lopez nods. "Believe it or not, San, we do pay attention."

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of."

"Maybe we should just let the girl eat in peace," Mr. Lopez says.

"She needs to take action," Mrs. Lopez replies.

"I am, mom," Santana tells her.

"Good. That girl better be back here for dinner soon, then."

"Yes mom."

**…**

Rachel is stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her clock reads 6:45 p.m. She knows the Lopez family is sitting down to dinner and eating. She wishes she was there. It feels like it's been forever since she's been over there for Sunday dinner.

The whole incident with her fathers has reminded her how alone she used to be. Rachel presumed that was all behind her, but apparently not. Though, she supposes, she did it to herself.

Before Santana, Rachel used to console herself with thoughts of her future; being on Broadway, being famous, knowing most of her peers will still be in Ohio. However, lately, Santana has found her way into Rachel's future daydreams. Removing her from the equation leaves Rachel feeling even more isolated.

The weight of everything unexpectedly comes crashing down on her. The emotions she's been holding back: sadness, loneliness, self-doubt, and even a little self pity are suddenly too overwhelming for her and she begins to cry.

Clutching her pillow, the tears turn into sobs, which quickly becomes weeping and gasping for breath. She just can't seem to stop. She really wishes Santana was here to hold her through all this; Rachel realizes how crazy that thought is since Santana's absence is the catalyst.

However, as the tears continue to flow, Rachel knows she's also crying because of her fathers. She's never really let herself properly react to her fathers' dismissal of her presence at such a young age. At first, she was so caught up in training to become a star. And then it seemed silly to dwell in the past; so much of her life is prepping for the future. But now, laying on her bed, crying to herself, Rachel can acknowledge how hurt and alone she really feels.

**…**

Another week has begun and Santana's beginning to wonder if she and Rachel are truly over.

"Don't think like that," Brittany tells her. "You're Santana fucking Lopez. If you want your girl back, you'll get her back."

"I'm starting to doubt it," Santana replies.

"We've barely begun," Brittany says. "Your wooing back attempts have been mild at best. Once you really step up the efforts, she'll be putty in your hands. Or whatever."

"Yeah?"

"Course," Brittany replies. "Just because you were relationship impaired before doesn't mean you are now."

"Thanks Britt."

"You're just going to have to try harder."

"Easier said than done," Santana mutters.

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes are on their way to lunch when they hear it: a mini explosion, yelling and then chaos.

A moment later, several teachers exit the teacher lounge, cursing covered in flour.

"Prankster," Mercedes whispers as they watch.

"Good," Kurt replies. "Let them have to deal with cleaning up at school."

"Harsh," Mercedes says.

"Well, we had to do it for years and they never did anything."

"I'll give Santana credit," Kurt continues. "When she wants to, she can be quite thorough."

"I still don't understand why you think it's Santana," Mercedes says.

"I don't understand how you can't," Kurt counters.

"Just because I don't know who it is means it's Santana."

"Course not," Kurt agrees. "That's not why I think it."

They try to stay out of the way and watch the bedlam that the prankster has caused. Most of the faculty are running around, seemingly lost and confused.

Finally when the janitors show up, the pandemonium seems to lessen. Having a great deal of experience with the prankster's antics, they begin cleaning up the mess.

Both Kurt and Mercedes are thrown by how calm things become once the janitors appear and begin cleaning up.

"So apparently cleanliness is the solution to chaos?" Mercedes suggests.

Kurt just shrugs.

**…**

Marisa isn't sure what it is, but something is different. She's having lunch with Rachel, which has become a daily occurrence, but something's changed. She hopes it's how Rachel views her because she's slowly working up her courage to ask Rachel out.

Then again, she doesn't know exactly _how_ Rachel sees her. She knows they're friends, but Marisa acknowledges it may be too soon for Rachel to think about going out with someone else. However, Marisa knows she'll regret it if she doesn't try.

She's actually surprised she hasn't seen Santana. Marisa fully expected the Cheerio to be in her face about hanging out with Rachel. Marisa's not complaining. She's not sure she could survive another encounter with Santana; who knows what else she would do to Marisa.

**…**

Will enters his office at the end of the day only to be hit with another slushie. He sighs as he wipes his face clean and sets his things on his desk. Checking the time, he debates cleaning up or if it'd just be easier to head home a bit early.

Because it's only Monday, Will decides to head home. He grabs the quizzes he needs to grade and heads out, still dripping blue raspberry slushie.

**…**

Tuesday Santana still hasn't thought of her next move with Rachel. She knows she needs something impressive to get Rachel's attention, but subtle enough it still screams Santana to Rachel. That perfect balance is the key factor.

"A love poem."

"Hardly."

Brittany, bless her heart, is still suggesting things.

"A love _letter_ then?"

"Not enough."

"What about a big song and dance number in her driveway?" Brittany asks.

"That might actually work," Santana admits. "But I'm not sure I could pull it off."

"What about an iconic song from an iconic musical?" Brittany tries. "Like that one from West Side Story? I just met a girl named Maria or whatever. What if you changed that to Rachel?"

"Maybe," Santana says. "Though I'm not sure how well it would work. Different amount of syllables and all that."

"True," Brittany agrees. "What if you just kiss her senseless?"

"Um…"

"You just kiss her until she takes you back. You're a great kisser, S."

"Thanks Britt."

**…**

Marisa is once again leaning against Rachel's car waiting for her to be done with glee. Several times it's been suggested that Marisa join glee as well, but she just can't. There are the reasons she gives Rachel: she's not a strong singer or dancer, she doesn't have time between school and theater and she still has time to join later. However, the real reason is that seeing Rachel perform is an amazing experience and every time it reminds Marisa how much in love she is. Knowing Rachel doesn't feel the same way makes watching a bit painful.

Though if Rachel is into her a bit, like Marisa's starting to think she might be, maybe it'll be okay. She'll have to worry about the daggers shooting out of Santana's eyes, but with Rachel by her side anything is possible.

So maybe glee is in her future. Who knows. All Marisa knows is Rachel is skipping towards her with a grin on her face and Marisa fights the urge to run towards Rachel and kiss her senseless right in the middle of the parking lot.

Instead she smiles back and climbs into Rachel's car.

**…**

Wednesday morning it's quiet in the teacher's lounge. With the prankster escalating his antics, everyone's feeling a bit on edge. What will he have in store next? Everyone speculates what could have changed to make the prankster up his game.

"Do you still think it's Noah Puckerman?" Emma asks Will over coffee.

Will shakes his head. "I don't know anymore. These flour bombs are rather severe in comparison to the previous pranks."

"Yes, but there are plenty of previous pranks that were complex and complicated. Perhaps whoever it is wrongly trying to explore other avenues."

"That's a scary thought," Will replies. "That means we're in for it."

"Maybe after this, the pranks will go back to being more innocent," Emma says. "Just more intricate."

"For some reason I don't find that any more comforting."

"It wasn't meant that way," Emma replies. "Just an observation—"

Emma's interrupted by a dozen or so flour bombs exploding again. Will grabs Emma and drags her under the table. It gives a bit of protection from the attack, but not much.

Once the dust has settled and everything's calmed slightly, they both crawl out from under the table. Everything is covered with flour, there are chunks of flour goop everywhere and there's still a bit of flour dust floating about the room.

"I better go get a janitor," Will says.

"I need to clean up," Emma manages as she quickly exits.

Will watches her scurry out and down the hall before heading in the opposite direction.

**…**

"Did you hear?" Kurt asks Mercedes as she sits down for lunch.

"What?"

"The teachers got hit again," Kurt tells her. "Flour bomb."

"The prankster is really going after people, isn't he?" Mercedes questions.

"Rather fiercely, too," Kurt agrees.

"Bored?"

"Maybe," Kurt replies. "Or he works at a flour factory and they got an extra shipment by accident."

"Yeah, that seems the most likely," Mercedes says.

"I don't hear you coming up with any ideas," Kurt replies.

"True," Mercedes agrees. "But a flour factory?"

"It's a thing," Kurt defends.

"Uh huh."

**…**

Thursday morning, Figgins looks around the room, agitated. Sue is late for the faculty staff meeting. She always is, but it's usually just a minute or two; to make some sort of point. Today she is nearly ten minutes late. He decides to start without her.

"All right, Sue is obviously not going to grace us with her presence, so let's get started."

"I want to start with the disturbing large increase of pranks as of late-"

And then the staff meeting becomes anarchy as several flour bombs go off. One. Two. Three. Four. They just keep going off, one after another.

Everyone is covered with blue hair gel and flour, Figgins included. Try as he might, he can't regain order, especially since many teachers run out to get cleaned up.

"Sorry I'm late," Sue says, suddenly standing next to him. "Had something more important to do. I miss anything?"

Figgins ignores Sue and goes to clean up.

**…**

Thursday afternoon, Puck grabs Rachel after glee.

"Noah, the physical restraint isn't necessary," Rachel tells him. "If you wish to speak me, just say so."

"We need to talk," Puck says.

"I gathered." Rachel looks around. The choir room is empty. "What about?"

"You hanging out with blondie now?"

"Her name is Marisa," Rachel replies. "And yes."

"You've got to stop leading the freshman on," he tells her.

"What? I am doing no such thing," Rachel retorts.

"You are. I know you miss Lopez, but the kid is starting to think you might be into her."

"She is not."

"She is," Puck insists. "I know you're upset with Lopez because she slushied the kid, but I think what you're doing is much crueler."

"And what, pray tell, am I doing?" Rachel asks.

"You're leading her on. You guys have been hanging out a lot lately. Which you only do if you're into someone, but don't know how to tell them."

"That's not necessarily always true," Rachel tries.

"Maybe not, but it is this time," Puck replies. "Not to mention, Lopez is so green she's pretty much turned into the Hulk. She's going to do something drastic soon."

"Noah, I…"

"You know I'm right, bro. Sort your shit out."

"It wasn't intentional," Rachel says.

"I know, Rach," Puck replies. "But acknowledging the problem is the first step, right?"

"I suppose."

"So hang with the kid today, but later you better sit down and really think about what you want. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Call me later if you need to or whatever."

And Puck walks out leaving Rachel staring at the door, lost in thought.

**…**

Hanging out with Marisa, Rachel can admit she's distracted. Noah's words are echoing in her head and she can't help but agree with them. She's a horrible person; she has totally led Marisa on. Even if it wasn't on purpose, it's still worse than Santana slushing Marisa.

She's still upset that Santana would resort to slushing someone for intimidation, but the romantic dreamer in her finds the concept terribly romantic. She wishes Santana could have staked her claim in a different way, but she does understand the sentiment.

Rachel wonders if breaking up with Santana was too strong of move. It certainly wasn't planned. It simply happened amidst their argument. She finds herself doing that a lot with Santana, reacting. Usually it works out.

Rachel sighs. She has to do something to fix the situation.

**…**

The moment Puck parks his truck at McKinley, Friday morning, Rachel Berry is suddenly sitting next to him.

"Berry."

Rachel hands him two egg McMuffins.

"Uh, thanks…"

"You were right, Noah," Rachel admits. "I thought about what you said quite a bit last night and I can admit it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Awesome. I like when that happens."

**…**

When the rush of icy cold hits him, Will wonders when he became someone resigned to being slushied. Though he'll probably never admit it out loud, he thinks that maybe he understand Rachel and Kurt a bit more. Having to endure this daily, not know when it's going to happen is akin to agony to him. He finds himself tense, waiting and worrying. It's an unnerving way to spend a day.

He's also gotten quite good at doing a full clean up at school. Using the teacher's bathroom helps quite a bit, but it's still an art form. He tries to comfort himself with this fact.

It never works.

**…**

Santana decides to spend Friday lunch on the bleachers. She's just not in the mood for the chatter of the lunch room. People might still be scurrying out of her way in the halls, but she's also overheard talk of her being despondent over Rachel. And while this may be true, she doesn't feel it's the school's damn business.

She ignores the texts and calls from everyone, even Britt. She just wants to be alone for a bit. She knows her bouncy, blonde best friend will find her eventually, but for the moment, she just tries to enjoy the solitude stretched out on the bleachers.

Eventually there's a shadow blocking the sun and solitude. Still if her eyes are closed, then she can still deny that she's no longer alone.

"I should make you run suicides for hours for this lack of respect, Lopez."

Santana's eyes snap open and she almost falls off the bench she's lying on trying to sit up.

"Relax," Coach Sylvester says sitting on the bench above the one Santana's stretches out on.

"Coach, I uh, I didn't-"

"Lopez, I said relax."

"Right Coach."

It's quiet as Santana tries to relax and Coach Sylvester stares out at the field.

"Hiding?"

"Santana Lopez doesn't hide," she scoffs.

Coach Sylvester smirks.

"I don't feel the need to deal with those Neanderthals," Santana replies. "As one of McKinley's royalty it is within my rights to ignore the herd when I feel like it."

"Uh huh."

"It's been a long week, Coach."

"Berry really has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"

Santana just sighs.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "She'll figure out what she's missing and come back soon enough."

"Yeah, well she's taking her damn time, isn't she?" Santana grumbles.

Coach Sylvester just smirks.

"Maybe she thinks you deserve it."

Santana sits up. " _That_ I could understand. I'm pretty sure that's not why she's doing it."

"No, I doubt that's why she's doing it," Coach Sylvester agrees.

"Yeah, I know."

"Despite the cunning, deviousness, treachery and strategizing she has," Coach Sylvester continues.

"I _know_."

"She really is the perfect partner for you, Lopez," Coach Sylvester tells her. "When she takes you back, try not to fuck it up so badly next time. All right?"

Coach Sylvester stands.

"Thanks Coach."

Coach Sylvester nods and slowly walks down the bleachers.

**…**

Rachel has been sighing a lot, Marisa's noticed. She finds it extremely disconcerting.

"Marisa," Rachel says eventually. "I think we need to talk."

"All right," Marisa replies, cautiously.

"It's come to my attention that I'm perhaps doing you a disservice," Rachel says.

"I don't know what that means."

"I hadn't realized, until Santana said something, that you may have feelings for me," Rachel explained. "And while I didn't think I was giving you any signs of mutual affection, I find I'm often wrong in such matters."

"Oh."

"So I apologize if I gave you the impression I might return your romantic intentions."

"Uh…"

"In all honestly, Santana and I are too intertwined. The hiatus we're experiencing will most likely be over soon," Rachel continues. "I don't mean to be cruel. I'm just trying to be honest."

"Hey, no big deal," Marisa replies. "I kinda figured it was too soon, at the very least."

"I see."

"I appreciate the honesty either way," Marisa says.

"Yes, well it is one thing I'm excellent at," Rachel replies, quietly. "I really am sorry, Marisa."

"Hey, it's not like you did it on purpose, Rach," Marisa tells her. "I probably wanted it too much and was like projecting or whatever."

"I'd like to keep hanging out, but I understand if you feel otherwise."

"Won't your girlfriend get jealous?" Marisa asks.

"So what?"

"That seems sorta insensitive," Marisa comments.

"Yes, well, apparently I excel at it."

"I'm not mad," Marisa tells her.

"Just hurt," Rachel replies.

Marisa shrugs. "Part of life and all that. Plus, I can use it for my acting right?"

"That's an amazing pragmatic way of looking at it," Rachel observes. "I think you've been hanging out with me too much."

Marisa just gives a small smile.

**…**

Friday night, Puck is practically yanked into the house before he can even knock.

"What the hell Berry?"

"I wish to get back together with Santana," Rachel says.

"About fucking time," Puck replies.

"Is the cursing really necessary?"

"Hell yeah," Puck replies. "So what's the plan?"

"That's the problem," Rachel says. "I can't decide if I should just go over there and grovel or if a Rachel Berry like romantic gesture would be more appropriate."

"Hmmm."

"So you see my quandary, Noah."

"Well, considering Santana's made a couple of attempts and you shot her down, it seems only fair."

"Yes, but I've made my own romantic gestures," Rachel replies. "It seems only fair."

"Are you keeping score?" Puck asks. "Because I don't think that's particularly helpful."

"I suppose not."

"We'll figure it out," Puck says holding up the beer he brought.

"Alcohol is not conducive to the decision making process."

"Maybe not, but I don't hear you coming up with any better ideas."

Part Five

A night of drinking and talking both clarified the situation and yet helped Rachel decide nothing. Despite the numerous drinks she downed the night before, Rachel still manages to wake up quite early. She looks over at Noah, laying on his side and snoring lightly and wishes it was Santana next to her.

She climbs out of bed and quickly gets ready. She leave a note for Noah and then jumps into her car.

The drive to the Lopez residence goes quick, despite her cautious driving. She parks in front of the house and is relieved to see Santana's car in the driveway. She was afraid she might have spent the night at Brittany's or Quinn's.

Rachel knocks on the door, hoping the elder Lopezs are there to let her in. She's both relieved and nervous when the door swings open to reveal Tomás.

"Rachel," he greets jovially. "Come in."

"Good morning, Tomás. Thanks."

Once she's inside and the door closed, Tomás sweeps her up in a hug. "It's nice to see you again."

"So I gathered," Rachel replies when her feet are firmly back on the ground.

"You and Santana have made up, I take it?"

"Not yet, actually," Rachel tells him. "I was hoping to talk to her about just that. I know it's a bit early, but I couldn't wait any longer."

"Well, she's upstairs asleep, of course," Tomás says. "Why don't you come into the kitchen, have a cup of coffee and say hello to Clara first?"

"That sounds lovely."

"Guess who's here," Tomás says, entering the kitchen.

"If it's that non laundry doing son of yours, I don't want to hear it," Clara replies.

"Hello," Rachel says.

"Rachel, darling," Clara greets. "It's lovely to see you."

"And you as well."

They sit at the kitchen table as Tomás sets a cup of coffee in front of Rachel.

"I hope black is okay," he says.

"It's fine. Thank you."

"I didn't realize you and Santana were back together," Clara tells Rachel. "That daughter of mine-"

"Actually, we're technically not," Rachel interrupts. "But I'm hoping to rectify that situation shortly."

Clara smiles. "I'm glad. She's been in a mood for too long now."

Rachel smiles in return. "I've felt similarly, I'm sure."

"Well if all goes well, then I expect you for dinner tomorrow night."

"Of course," Rachel replies.

**…**

When Rachel reaches Santana's room, she realizes she doesn't really have a plan. She figures she's come this far, she might as well just improv.

She opens the door slowly to find Santana sprawled out in bed, still asleep. Considering the time, that isn't too much of a surprise though.

Not knowing what else to do, Rachel strips off her jeans and shoes and crawls into bed with Santana. Rachel's instantly enveloped by the warmth that is a sleeping Santana and she doesn't mind one bit.

It's been too long and all too soon Rachel is asleep as well.

**…**

Puck's bladder wakes him up before he wants to. He stumbles into the bathroom to pee and then flops back into bed. He then notices that he's all alone. He listens and doesn't hear the tell tale signs of Rachel, but that doesn't mean anything.

He then notices the note pinned to his t-shirt and wonders how the hell he missed _that_. He rips it off and unfolds it.

_Noah, I decided a direct approach is the best with Santana. So I'm off to talk to her. I don't know when I'll be back, but thanks for all your help. R_

Puck smiles. He's glad. The sooner this hold break up thing is over, the fast things can get back to normal. He figures he better make himself scarce just in case they come back to celebrate their reunion. Normally, he'd want to stick around to tease them, but he doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize the reunion.

He dresses quickly and is out the door, driving home before he even realizes. He can sleep more when he gets home.

**…**

Santana wakes up more content than she's been in a while. She feels warm and safe and she really doesn't want to open her eyes and ruin it.

And then she realizes she's not alone in bed. She doesn't remember falling asleep with Britt. She racks her brain; did she drink last night? Not even a little. Who could be in her bed?

Cautiously, she opens one eye and then the other to find Rachel curled against her, arms wrapped around her. Confused, Santana pinches herself to make sure she's dreaming.

"Ow." She's not.

"What's going on?" a sleepy Rachel asks.

"I could say the same of you."

"Oh. Morning, San."

"Morning Rachel," Santana replies. "Why are you in my bed?"

They both sit up.

"You look mad," Rachel observes. "Don't be mad."

"How am I supposed to react when I wake up being cuddled by my _ex_-girlfriend."

"I wanted to talk, but you looked so comfy, that I didn't want to wake you," Rachel explains. "And then you looked so lonely, so I figured I'd fix that. I didn't mean to fall asleep. It's just so nice to be wrapped up with you again."

"So what?" Santana asks. "I want to get back together, so I plan a romantic gesture and you reject me. But when you want to get back together, it just takes crawling into bed with me?"

"Yes."

"What? No way."

"Why?"

"Because. Because it's not fair," Santana protests.

"I could offer the simple argument that life's not fair, but I won't."

"Don't try your crazy Berry logic on me," Santana tells her.

"San, listen, I'm sorry," Rachel says. "I miss you and I was wrong to rebuff your attempts at reconciliation. I apologize."

"Well…"

"I'm still a bit miffed about how you handled your jealousy, but I accept some of the blame for that," Rachel continues. "Obviously I'm giving you some sort of sign that implies you can't trust me."

"What? No way, babe, that's not it, at all."

"Really?"

Santana sighs. "I admit I over reacted and I shouldn't have slushied Marisa. I'm sorry for that."

"You'll have to apologize to her as well."

Santana sighs even louder. "Fine. I will Monday. But I'm still not totally okay with her."

"That is completely understandable," Rachel agrees. "Though if it helps, I've made it abundantly clear that she and I have no future as a couple."

"It helps a little."

"Excellent."

"I suppose my parents let you in," Santana says after a moment.

"They did, indeed."

"They really do like you better," Santana grumbles.

"While I'll admit, they were pleased to see me, I'm not sure that they like me _better_. Perhaps they like me better than your previous dating choices, but that is all."

"Maybe."

"Ah, don't be sad, tiger," Rachel coos. "I love you best of all."

Santana can't help the grin that spreads across her face. She feels like a complete sap, but finds, at this moment, she just doesn't care.

"I love you too, babe."

**…**

Santana knows she should be more weirded out that her parents are basically giving her permission to go have sex, but she's so glad that everything seems back to normal that she can't make herself care.

She'll even put up with her parents making them eat lunch first and ask insistent questions.

"Shakespeare?" Clara exclaims. "My little Santana memorized Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, mom, I did," Santana says.

"How romantic."

"Yeah, well too bad it didn't work," Santana grumbles.

"Well considering the fate of Romeo and Juliet, can you blame me?" Rachel asks.

"You would have preferred _King Lear_? _Titus Andronicus_?" Tomás questions.

"No, but what about _The Taming of the Shrew_ or _Much Ado About Nothing_?"

"Congrats you guys," Santana interrupts. "You know more Shakespeare plays than I do."

"Ah, sorry, San," Rachel says, scooting her chair closer to Santana. "Are you feeling left out?"

"How come they like you better than me?" Santana whispers, leaning against Rachel.

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel whispers back.

"Girls, save the secrets for when you're alone," Clara says.

"Tell her you don't like me better than her," Rachel tells them.

Santana elbows Rachel.

"Santana be nice," Clara says. "Of course we don't like Rachel better than you, darling."

"The jury's still out for me, actually," Tomás teases.

"_Papa_."

"That might be our cue to leave, Tomás," Rachel says, standing.

"Well I expect the two of you back here for dinner tomorrow night," Clara replies.

"Of course," Rachel smiles.

"Conspiracy," Santana grumbles.

**…**

"So," Santana says when they're safely ensconced in Rachel's bedroom. "Should be talk about this?"

"We could," Rachel says. "Though you sound a bit reluctant."

"So do you," Santana accused.

"Because I am," Rachel admits.

"Why?"

"It's possible I reacted rather hastily," Rachel starts. "Instead of arguing right there, we should have both went our separate ways and calmed down a bit."

"Maybe."

"We tend to both react rather… passionately about things. And each other it seems."

Santana nods.

"So perhaps next time it'd be more prudent to just walk away."

"You're being awfully logical about this," Santana points out.

"I've had a lot of time to think about it," Rachel replies.

Santana nods. "Me too."

"And you disagree with my analysis?"

"Well, no," Santana replies. "It's just this whole thing started because you were being too calm about your dads rejecting you."

"Right. Yes, that."

"That's all you have to say?"

"I had an emotional breakdown over the issue," Rachel informs her. "If that's what you're worried about."

Santana looks surprised. "You did?"

Rachel nods. "Last Sunday in fact. I was laying here feeling alone and missing you and it just sort of happened. I may have cried myself to sleep."

"Because of your dads?"

"Because of everything," Rachel answers. "My dads, you, me, just a good emotional breakdown."

"Well, I'm glad, I guess," Santana says. "Though I wish you didn't have to go through that alone."

"I agree that it would've been nice if you'd been here, but I'm not sure it would have happened if I hadn't been feeling so alone."

"Yeah that makes sense."

"Good," Rachel says. "Now we can move onto more pleasant activities."

"Whoa," Santana says. "What if I just want to take it slow? Start all over."

Rachel is now straddling Santana. "Hmmm. I suppose I can see that. A symbolic new beginning. All right. No sex. But you're still spending the night. I've missed you."

"Wait a minute," Santana replies. "No sex? I was kidding. I wanted to see your reaction."

"Oh. Well, then, was it what you wanted?"

Santana thinks about it for a moment. "Actually, yeah, it was."

"Good. I'm glad. _Now_ can we move onto more pleasant activities?"

**…**

Sunday morning, Rachel and Santana are reading the New York Times in bed like usual and Santana has to marvel at how quickly they were able to fall back into routines. She's not complaining; it's nice. But she'll also admit she's not completely at ease.

"You're restless," Rachel says.

Apparently it's difficult to miss.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Everything's back to normal."

"Agreed."

"Doesn't it seem sudden to you?" Santana questions.

"It does," Rachel agrees. "However, I expected it to happen that way."

"You did?"

"I did, indeed," Rachel says. "We have a pretty set routine, San. It makes sense that after all this turmoil, we'd fall so easily back into it. It's comforting."

"You're making me feel old."

"I apologize. That was never my intention."

"Seriously," Santana continues. "You make us sound like an old married couple."

"I have no problem with that," Rachel replies.

"You wouldn't."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Maybe later."

**…**

Brittany's in her room trying to levitate her cat, because it sounded like a good idea when she thought of it, when she hears her mom yell, "Britt, honey, Santana is here."

A moment later, the door swings open to reveal Santana, who immediately flops on the bed.

"How come you look happy and sad at the same time, San?" Brittany asks.

"Rachalniareackoogether," Santana mumbles into the bedspread.

"You are?" Brittany asks. "That's great! Right?"

Santana rolls over on her back. "I just woke up yesterday morning and she was in my bed. And suddenly we're back together. No song or pleading or even asking; we just were."

"And you're annoyed cause you had to sing a song and recite Shakespeare?"

"Hell yeah."

"Well she was the injured party," Brittany says.

"_She_ broke up with me, Britt," Santana replies.

"I know."

"So _I_ should be the injured party here," Santana continues.

"_You_ were the one acting like a dolt," Brittany replies.

"I'll admit I didn't make the best choice," Santana allows. "But my intentions were good."

"That could be said about a lot of people, San," Brittany replies.

"So? Like who?" Santana asks.

"Hitler for one."

"Did you just compare me to Hitler?"

"Of course not," Brittany replies. "But you asked for examples."

"Well I didn't mean the guy that started World War Two."

"How about Pol Pot?

"Who?" Santana asks.

"Saloth Sar. The leader of the Khmer Rouge?"

"Oh sure. Him. How is he better than Hitler?"

"Better than Hitler? Oh. I was just giving another example."

"Can we get back to my problem?" Santana asks.

"Sure. What is it again?"

"Shouldn't I make Rachel do something more before we get back together?" Santana asks, exasperated.

"No."

"That's it?" Santana questions.

"What else do you want me to say?" Brittany asks. "You wanted my opinion and now you have it."

"I was looking for some best friend support."

"S, you and Rachel _need_ to be together. You're miserable apart. It's really that simple."

"Well _I_ was miserable."

"Rachy was miserable too, San, trust me," Brittany assures her.

"So I should just welcome her back with open arms?"

"Basically," Brittany replies. "But you two should do some talking. Serious talking."

Santana sighs. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Brittany smiles.

**…**

Santana pulls into her driveway as Rachel parks on the street. She'd gone back to pick her girlfriend up, but was reminded Rachel still needed a way home.

"Why?" Santana asks. "I bet the folks would let you spend the night."

"Yes, well, I'd rather not push it," Rachel replies. "Plus, who knows what sort of reception I'll be receiving."

"Better than I'm going to get," Santana grumbles. "Besides, we already know what their reaction is."

"I'm not spending the night," Rachel insists.

Rachel receives a hearty hug from Tomás when she steps inside before being led to the kitchen and receiving another hug from Clara.

"Sheesh," Santana groans. "And you guys wonder why I think you like her better."

"We don't wonder that, darling," Clara replies. "We know."

"We're just so pleased the two of you patched things up," Tomás adds.

"I'm rather delighted about it, myself," Rachel replies.

"Santana's been rather mopey without you," Clara informs Rachel.

"Has she?" Rachel asks.

Santana groans.

"Well, I haven't been my usual sunny self, so I guess I can understand that," Rachel continues.

Santana smiles.

"And of course we expect to see you around plenty, dear," Clara says.

"Well, I'll see what I can do."

"Don't let sourpuss here deter you," Tomás adds.

"She's just embarrassed how much she missed me," Rachel tells them.

"Most likely," Tomás agrees.

"Which is silly," Rachel continues. "Because I was rather lost without her."

"Awww," Clara coos. "That is so sweet."

"Can we please just eat already?" Santana asks, exasperated.

"Of course, darling," Clara replies. "I wouldn't want to make you feel too uncomfortable."

"Thank. I guess."

**…**

Trying not to be a complete girl, Puck hasn't called Rachel to check up on her, even though he's very curious about her and Santana. He finally gives in Sunday night and calls her.

"So are you back together yet?" Puck asks when Rachel picks up.

"Yes, we are," Rachel replies. "I just returned from having dinner there."

"Yeah Sunday night dinner. You guys are so domestic, it hurts," Puck says. "Thank god you guys do it at school or I'd have to give Lopez a lot of shit."

"Yes, well, you'd have to deal with me then," Rachel replies.

"Good for you, bro," Puck says. "I'm glad this whole break up thing is over and we can get back to normal.

"I had similar feelings about the matter," Rachel tells him.

"So can we pull a different prank soon?" Puck asks. "No more flour?"

"Fine. No more flour."

"Cool. Later bro."

**…**

Rachel is walking into McKinley Monday morning when she's engulfed by Brittany in a hug.

"Hi Rachy," Brittany greets.

"Hello, Britt."

"You're back with San."

"I am," Rachel nods.

"Yippee. Now things can go back to normal," Brittany says.

"I'm relieved as well."

"And now we can all hang out again," Brittany continues.

"That's true," Rachel agrees.

"Okay. See you later?"

"Of course."

Rachel watches Brittany skip away.

**…**

Rachel is at her locker when Michelle Jamieson walks up.

"Word is that you and Lopez are back to singing duets together," she says.

Rachel nods. "We have reconciled, yes."

"I'd say congrats, but I worry you wouldn't think me sincere."

"And I'd be correct, wouldn't I?"

"You know I've never been a fan of Lopez," Michelle replies.

"That is definitely true," Rachel agrees. "But I'm not sure what purpose our morning discussions have."

"Are you kidding?" Michelle asks. "Even if Lopez isn't here to see, someone is bound to tell her we're talking. It happened plenty the past month."

"Hmmm. I'm mildly disappointed in myself for not noticing."

"You were distracted," Michelle offers.

"I suppose that's true."

"Anyway, see you around Berry."

"Bye Michelle," Rachel replies, distractedly.

**…**

"I hear congratulations are in order or whatever," Quinn says sitting down to lunch.

"Don't sound too sincere, Fabray," Santana replies.

"Whatever. As long as you're done whining for a while," Quinn tells her.

"Yeah, it was kinda sad," Brittany adds.

"Thanks for the support, guys," Santana snaps.

"Well, it's true," Quinn says. "So how much begging did you end up doing? Because I know your re-wooing attempts didn't work."

Santana glares at Brittany.

"She asked," Brittany tells her.

"Believe it or not, Lopez, I do care," Quinn says. "Sort of."

"How about we just stop talking about it?" Santana asks.

"So touchy," Quinn observes. "You'd think getting Berry back would make you more relaxed."

"S doesn't want anyone to know she's sensitive," Brittany whispers loudly.

Quinn nods.

"_Guys_."

**…**

Rachel goes to the choir room for lunch on Monday and is pleasantly surprised to find Marisa already there. Marisa gives Rachel a small hesitant smile but doesn't say anything.

As Rachel chews, she find she doesn't mind. It's just like their lunches originally were; enjoying the peace of solitude without being alone. At least that's how Rachel sees it.

But at the same time, she knows Marisa's silence is mostly like more due to Rachel's rejection than anything else. And then suddenly she's struck by a thought.

"Did you want to be alone?" she asks Marisa.

Marisa shakes her head. "If I did, I wouldn't have come here."

Rachel sighs in relief as she nods.

They eat finish eating and when the bell rings, Marisa leaves first, giving Rachel a small wave.

**…**

"So you took her back," Mike greets Rachel as she sorts through her locker after lunch.

"I had to," Rachel replies.

"You _had_ to?"

"We belong together," Rachel shrugs.

"If I hadn't seen it work with my own two eyes, I'd think you're delusional," Mike tells her. "But I agree, you guys just work."

"I know. It's odd. Right?"

Mike nods. "But then again, so are you."

"True."

"Does this mean you won't be able to help me out with any more dance classes?" Mike asks. "I'd hate to have the wrath of Santana after me."

"I don't think so," Rachel replies. "It's teaching dance to a bunch of kids. But don't worry, I'll protect you."

"You do have the wicked knife throwing skills," Mike agrees. "I think you should protect me from all unsavory elements."

"I could if you really want, but I may have to start charging."

"Well then maybe just for emergencies, then," Mike replies.

"What about your crazy Asian, ninja skills, Chang?"

"I have to save those for national security or zombie attacks," Mike answers.

"I suppose I can be your emergency muscle then," Rachel allows.

"Cool. See you around? Just cause you're back with Lopez, doesn't mean we can't hang."

"We will."

"Awesome. Later, Rach."

"Bye Mike."

**…**

"So I got permission to skip practice and spend the night," Santana tells Rachel after school.

They're walking through the parking lot to their cars.

"You got permission to skip practice?"

"Coach says I'm been so pathetic lately, that I get one day off to fix it," Santana replies. "I think it's more for your benefit than mine."

"Yes, well, I'm sure it's because she enjoyed my flour bombing her colleagues."

"Probably."

"You know, if you told her you were slushing Mr. Schue, you'd probably take the top spot in her affection," Rachel says, stopping by her car.

Santana leans against the driver's side door. "Well sure, but no one knows I'm doing that-including you, actually. Did Britt tell you?"

"You just did, actually," Rachel smirks. "It just makes sense that it was you."

"Well I suppose you're proud of yourself for figuring it out," Santana grumbles.

"I think it's very sweet, actually," Rachel tells her.

"Yeah, well he deserves it. I suppose you're going to make me stop."

"My conscious thinks you should," Rachel replies. "But the petty part of me, the one that enjoys making our classmates look foolish with pranks thinks it's hilarious."

"Okay…"

"So why don't we pretend I never brought it up," Rachel finally suggests.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Rachel confirms. "I can't decide how I feel about the issue, so I'm going to pretend that I never brought it up."

"All right," Santana replies. "But if this is some crazy test, I'm going to be really pissed later."

Rachel nods. "I know. Which is why it isn't a test. I apologize for even bringing it up."

"Rach, I'm serious."

"So am I," Rachel replies. "Now let's go back to how you got permission to spend the night. Your parents really agreed to that? They don't think you're going to be at Brittany's?"

"I told you they like you," Santana says.

"Apparently I vastly underestimated that."

"I don't see how this is any different than my spending Saturday night," Santana comments.

"Because Santana," Rachel replies. "It's Monday. It's a _school_ night."

"Yeah so?"

"If I didn't know how intelligent you are, I'd think you didn't care about school."

"Hey, I can be smart and not like school," Santana replies. "Especially McKinley."

"Yes, that's certainly true. I certainly fall under that category."

"Look if you don't want me to stay over, I won't," Santana says. "But I was kinda looking forward to it."

"You better keep your voice down," Rachel replies. "Otherwise everyone here is going to realize you're a big old softie."

"You take that back, Rachel Berry," Santana growled.

"Never! Because it's true," Rachel says. "And if you want to stop me, well, you better catch me." And before Santana can react, Rachel is in her car and reversing out of the parking lot.

Santana shakes her head. "Unbelievable." She quickly finds her car and climbs in so she can chase her girlfriend home.


	24. Tradition Dictates It

**Title:** Tradition Dictates It  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Brittany  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel decides it's time to rework her life plan to include Santana.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~3,555  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> previous stories in this series (specifically Green is Not Your Color)

Rachel's nervous. She stares at her cell phone, trying to build her courage enough to call. She knows she's being silly; because doing this was her own idea, is her own choice. And she wants to do this, but that doesn't make it any less nerve racking.

It has to be tonight. Since it's Friday night, Santana is hanging out with Brittany. And Noah begged off bro night because he supposedly has a date with, "A chick who's hot and MILF age, but without the kids." Rachel isn't entirely sure; she sometimes stops paying attention to Noah when he uses the MILF acronym.

Finally she hits the call button on her cell. She waits nervously as it rings once, twice and is picked up on the third ring."

"Hello. I'm fine. And how are you this afternoon? Oh, I know. I was actually hoping I could stop by and speak with the both of you. Yes. Dinner? I suppose. Seven it is. I'll see you then. Bye."

Well that was the easy part, she thinks.

Her watch tells her she has a little over three hours to prep and plan. Usually she would have done that beforehand, but she'd refrained, knowing it might enable her to talk herself out of the entire venture.

**…**

At exactly 6:55 p.m., Rachel is standing on the Lopez family front porch, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Considering all her performing, Rachel can't fathom why she's so nervous about this dinner with her girlfriend's parents. Especially since this whole thing was her idea. Or maybe because it was.

She rings the bell and waits.

The door swings open to reveal Clara. "Rachel, darling, so good to see you," she greets. "Now what did I tell you about ringing the bell? I love your courteousness, but it's entirely unnecessary. You're more than welcome to just walk in. Brittany does it."

"Yes, of course," Rachel replies. "Sorry. It slipped my mind."

"I'm sure. Well, don't just stand there, come on in." Clara ushers her inside. "Tomás is just finishing up dinner. You can help me set the table."

"Of course, Clara."

Rachel follows Clara into the kitchen and a warm feeling of home and belonging settles on her, as it usually does when she has dinner at the Lopezs'. She wonders if it's the regular parental presence or something else that distinguishes it from her own home.

The three of them sit down to vegan lasagna.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble just for me," Rachel tells them.

"Nonsense, Rachel," Tomás replies. "I was already going to make lasagna. I just had Clara pick up a few ingredients on her way home."

"Really?"

"Rachel, honey," Clara says. "We're used to unique dietary needs. Ever since Santana joined Cheerios, there's always been _some_thing. You know how Coach Sylvester is."

"I suppose that's true."

They talk about their days, amusing patient stories from Tomás' day, interesting clients from Clara's and what Rachel did with her day. They compare the merits of the vegan lasagna versus Tomás' usual receipt and exchange entertaining stories about Santana. It feels like the idyllic family meal Rachel always day dreamed about, growing up.

It also strengths her belief that the purpose of her visit isn't the craziest thing she's ever done.

Before she knows it, they're done eating and all three of them are cleaning up, despite both Clara and Tomás' protests that Rachel doesn't have to.

Afterwards, they sit at the kitchen table. Clara and Tomás sip coffee while Rachel has a bottle of water.

"So Rachel," Tomás begins. "Not that this hasn't been a lovely evening, but I must admit to be suffering from extreme curiosity about what you wanted to talk to us about."

Rachel blushes. "Yes. I understand. I apologize. I didn't mean to be so secretive. I just didn't know how to explain what I wanted to discuss with you."

"Well the floor is yours," Tomás replies.

"And we promise not to interrupt," Clara adds. "Santana claims we do that a lot."

Rachel grins. "She says similar things about me." She takes a large drink of water, trying to build up her courage. "As you know, Santana and I have been dating for quite a while. Well, in teenage years."

Both Clara and Tomás smile at this, but don't comment.

"And I realize how what I'm about to say, sounds," Rachel continues. "However, I ask that you hear me out fully."

Clara and Tomás exchange a look, but nod.

"So, uh, the reason, I, uh, wanted to, uh, speak to you, uh without Santana around," Rachel starts. "Is, uh, because, well…" Rachel takes a deep breath. "Because I wanted to ask you for permission to marry Santana.""

Despite the stunned expression on their faces, neither Clara or Tomás say anything.

"Now I'm sure you're, uh, panicking a bit. Please rest assured, I don't mean any time in the near future. Santana and I are far too young for that kind of commitment. And honestly, I have no intention of getting married before I'm 25." Rachel takes another long drink of her water. "That being said, I am confident that your daughter and I are meant to be together. So, I suppose, what I'm asking, is do I have your blessing to _one day_ marry your daughter?"  
>The kitchen is eerily silent once Rachel is finished speaking.<p>

"I can leave if you want to speak privately," Rachel says after a few minutes.

Tomás recovers first. "No. That's not necessary. You just took us a bit by surprise."

Rachel nods. "I am sorry."

"Even though I know it's physically impossible," Clara says. "My first thought was that you'd gotten my daughter pregnant."

They all share a chuckle.

"I'm fairly certain, I did not," Rachel says.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Rachel, honey," Clara continues. "Because of all the people Santana has brought home, you're one of my favorites. However, I'd be remiss to not point out how young you both are. And that a lot can happen during college. Plus, are you two even applying to the same schools?"

"I believe one or two, including safeties, may overlap, but overall? No," Rachel answers.

"And yet you seem absolutely certain that you and Santana will eventually end up serious enough to consider marriage a real possibility?" Tomás questions.

"I am," Rachel agrees.

"I'm not sure what to say to that," Clara says.

"Is it because you don't want me to marry Santana? Or because this is coming seemingly out of nowhere?"

"Most definitely because this whole thing is rather insane," Tomás replies.

"_Tomás_," Clara chides.

"No, Clara, it's fine," Rachel says. "I agree. It _is_insane."

"Rachel," Tomás says. "You know how pleased I am that you and Santana are dating. Like Clara, I believe the two of you are good for each other. And I don't see that changing as you mature. But I also have concerns about either of you settling too young. Just because the two of you belong together, that doesn't mean neither of you won't resent being tied down too soon."

"That's an excellent point," Clara agrees. "What ifs are extremely dangerous to any relationship."

"I don't think getting married in our late 20s to be too soon."

"Rachel, honey," Clara says. "You're making a lot assumptions about both of your futures. Don't you think?"

"You're correct," Rachel agrees. "I am. However, a great deal of research has gone into this decision. I have an entire binder full of research and equations; perhaps I could show you. It may relieve some of your concerns."

"That's not necessary," Clara assures her. "Though, you do realize that research and equations don't always play out properly in real life?"

Rachel nods. "Nonetheless, I feel confident in my findings." Rachel fiddles with her now empty water bottle. "I understand all your concerns and apprehension. I suppose what I'm asking for, at the moment, is some suspension of belief. Because while I'm confident about Santana and my future, I understand why most people would have doubts."

"Thank you," Tomás interjects.

"So I'm hoping you'll answer my question, truthfully, by giving me, us, the benefit of the doubt."

"I just have to ask," Tomás says. "Does Santana know you're here? Asking, _this_?"

"Most definitely not," Rachel replies. "Not because she wouldn't agree with my assessment, but because she would mock me for my old fashioned beliefs."

"That she would," Tomás agrees.

"So?" Rachel asks after a few moments of silence.

Clara and Tomás exchange a long look before Tomás speaks, "I believe I speak for the both of us, when I say that you have our blessing to one day marry Santana."

A large grin slowly builds on Rachel's face. "Thank you. I realize how insane this all was, but I just… Well, it had to be done."

"Rachel, honey," Clara says. "I know as your girlfriend's mother, I'm probably the last person you want to talk to, but if you need to, I'm willing to listen."

"Don't worry," Rachel replies. "There was no specific, pivotal event that spurred me to action. It's simply something I felt I needed to do."

"We understand that, sweetie," Clara says. "I think it's the timing that concerns us."

"As my junior year draws to a close, I felt the need to adjust my life plan," Rachel explains. "And I began to modify it to incorporate Santana. But when I came to married at 28, I realized that seeking your blessing was important to me. And because I'm not the most patient person ever, I decided to seek it now, instead of later."

"Oddly that makes me feel slightly better," Tomás says.

"Still, you're talking an entire decade," Clara points out. "Like I said, a lot can happen."

"I realize. But I confess that the thought of any long term break up between us is one of the most traumatic things I can imagine; the short break up we went through was far too long for my liking. Besides, knowing we have your blessing enables me to put it on my life plan and move on."

"You're a very peculiar young lady," Tomás says, affectionately.

"_Tomás_," Clara scolds.

"I'm fond of you too, Tomás," Rachel says, smilling.

**…**

When Rachel arrives home, she's surprised to find another car in her driveway. Upon closer inspection, she realizes it's Brittany's. She can't imagine what Brittany could be doing at her house.

Because the blonde isn't in her car or sitting on the front step, Rachel assumes Santana is with her, since she has a key and could let them both in. Rachel just hopes they're not drinking all her parents' liquor.

Besides the front hall light Rachel left on to dissuade burglars, the kitchen light is on. Uncertain what she's about to walk into, she slowly makes her way towards the kitchen.

She finds Santana nursing a beer while Brittany attempts to balance various piece of fruit on each other. Rachel fights a smile as she watches Brittany try to build a pyramid of pears.

Santana then notices her presence.

"Where the _fuck_have you been?"

"Out," Rachel replies, wary of the harsh tone.

"Apparently. Where?"

"I was having dinner."

"Where?"

"What does it matter?" Rachel questions.

"Because your phone was off."

Rachel had turned it off because she was afraid any sort of interruption would make her lose her nerve. So she just nods. "Yes it was."

"But you're not going to tell me where you were?" Santana asks.

"Have you two been drinking?"

"San has," Brittany volunteers. "Don't worry, Rach. I drove."

"And how many have you had?"

"Only two."

Rachel nods. "How many has San had?"

"Enough to move beyond weepy," Brittany replies.

"Obviously," Rachel says. "And why are you two here?"

"S was all maudlin, so she wanted to call you, but your phone was off," Brittany explains. "We called Puck, but he said he was on a date with a not MILF." Brittany shrugs. "So then San got all paranoid and she made me drive her over."

"Why did she drink so much and you, so little?" Rachel asks.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not fucking here," Santana snaps. "And tell me where the fuck you were?"

"Why does it matter?" Rachel asks.

"Because your cell phone was off," Santana says. "It's never off. Even when you see a musical or a movie, you just set it on vibrate. And the fact that you refuse to tell me where you were, makes me really suspicious."

"It shouldn't," Brittany chirps. "It's Rachel."

"She's a sneaky bitch, Britt," Santana replies. "You and I both know what she's capable of."

"What could I possibly be up to?" Rachel asks.

"That's the problem," Santana says. "It could be anything."

"_Anything_?"

"Yeah," Santana grouses. "You know _stuff_. And how to do stuff. Stuff that still surprises me."

"I do like to be well rounded," Rachel agrees.

"Maybe Rach doesn't want to talk about it," Brittany tries. "Maybe it was somewhere embarrassing like a knitting circle. Do you knit, Rachel?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"But you understand my point, right, S?"

"We're not supposed to have secrets," Santana grumbles.

"How about we all sleep on it," Brittany suggests. "And then in the morning, everything will make sense."

"That's a lovely idea, Britt," Rachel agrees. "I take it the two of you are staying?"

"Yay!" Brittany exclaims as she runs up the stairs.

With some prodding and pulling, Rachel is able to get Santana to follow her upstairs to her room. There they find Brittany stripping.

"We're not sleeping naked, Brittany," Rachel says.

"Spoil sport," Brittany pouts. But she catches the clothes Rachel tosses her. She changes and jumps onto Rachel's bed.

Rachel smiles to herself as she changes, trying to ignore her scowling girlfriend in the corner. She climbs into bed with Brittany, knowing Santana will eventually join them.

**…**

Rachel wakes up Saturday morning, cocooned by Santana on her left and Brittany on her right. It's comforting in a different sort of way.

She isn't sure what she's going to tell Santana about last night. Rachel had no intention of _ever_telling Santana about the dinner she had with her parents. It's partly the reason she did it on a Friday night.

She wonders what even set her girlfriend off. And of course, the drinking just exasperated it all; Rachel can just imagine Santana the night before dragging Brittany over. She wonders how much ranting and raving there was; or maybe it was a lot of sobbing.

Brittany stirs slightly and tightens her grip around Rachel. Feeling a bit like a stuffed animal, she tries to extract herself from each Cheerio's embrace. However, it just encourages both to increase the strength of their hold.

The problem is, because Rachel had no intention of telling Santana she was asking her parents for their blessing, should they ever get married, she has no cover. She'd simply planned on telling Santana she'd spent the night online or watching a movie and then distract her with sex if she became too nosy.

It was perfect plan. And then San had to go and mess it up by being drunk and insecure. Rachel would be upset with her, if the imagine of Santana trying to drunkenly explain that Rachel knows _stuff_didn't still make her laugh hours later.

"What am I going to do with you?" Rachel whispers fondly.

"Anything you want," Santana mumbles back.

Every once in a while, Rachel wants to chuck her life plan and give into the romantic in her by marrying Santana the minute they graduate high school. She wishes she was a bit less pragmatic because her practical brain screams that it would be a mistake and that she should stick to her plan. Getting married at 18 would definitely be a challenge.

Rachel is warm and comfortable enough that she eventually drifts off again, brainstorming activities she can tell Santana she was engaged in last night.

**…**

In the light of day, with everyone sober, it's a bit easier to convince Santana that she wasn't up to anything nefarious.

"I was readjusting my life plan," Rachel tells Santana and Brittany as they sip coffee and Rachel peels an orange. "However, once I began going over the alterations, I realized some things needed to be investigated. That's where I was."

"Investigating?"

"Basically. And I had dinner."

"What could you possibly be investigating about your future in Lima?" Santana asks.

"I was feeling cooped in in," Rachel replies. "I felt that I needed to get out for a bit."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry if I seemed a bit closed off last night," Rachel continues. "But I wasn't really in the mood to defend myself last night; especially about a topic I thought we had already settled."

"What topic is that?" Santana asks.

"Whether or not you trust me," Rachel explains.

Santana looks a bit sheepish. "Yeah. I know. Can we blame the alcohol?"

"I'd be amendable to that," Rachel replies.

**…**

When Rachel and Santana arrive at the Lopez house Sunday night for dinner, Rachel is a bit afraid Clara or Tomás will let something slip. It's not that she doesn't trust them, but the wide smirk on Tomás' face when they enter the kitchen makes her apprehension.

Logically, Rachel knows it's going to come out sooner or later; she's hoping for later, much later, like around the time they actually decide to get married. Because, she's a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. In retrospect, it's a bit insane, even for her. But once the idea had occurred to her, Rachel couldn't shake it. And knowing that Clara and Tomás wouldn't think her a complete loony, she felt comfortable enough to do it.

And really, she's glad she did it, because she does in fact feel better. However, that doesn't mean she's in the mood to be mocked constantly by Santana for being so quant and old fashioned.

But despite the smiles that Clara and Tomás can't seem to keep off their faces, the meal passes without incident. Though Rachel can tell Santana is getting a little weirded out by her parents exuberance. Surprisingly, she doesn't question it, though.

**…**

Rachel is helping Tomás clean up, waiting for him to say something. Rachel believes she and Santana's parents were on the same page when she left Friday night. But she belatedly remembers she didn't ask them to not mention that she had dinner with them or what they talked about. Though knowing Santana as well as they do, Rachel hopes they'd know to keep that information to themselves.

Tomás does grin at Rachel a lot. She wonders if the passage of time, even if it's only 48 hours, has completely taken away their apparent astonishment.

"You know what I like best about you, Rachel?" he asks once they're done.

"What's that?"

"You can really keep a person guessing," he replies. "At my age, I feel like there are very few things that could still shock me, but then you ask for our blessing to get married, _in ten years_. And I'm left speechless."

"Yes, well, I've been told I have my moments."

"I'm not saying it's bad, kiddo," Tomás says. "Just the opposite, in fact. I think it's great."

"Yeah?"

"I do," Tomás tells her. He leans in slightly and lowers his voice. "The leniency we're showing about your relationship? Is due, in large part, to you. And what you bring out in our daughter. Though I'll admit if you were a boy, we're probably be a bit more strict. But that's more out of fear of pregnancy than anything else."

"Another reason to be relieved I'm female," Rachel retorts.

Tomás chuckles. "Indeed."

"But thank you."

"If you and Santana get married, I will be honored to call you my daughter."

Rachel wipes at the tears she feels forming as Tomás pulls her into a hug.

"Maybe I can call you dad, then?"

"Plan on it," Tomás tells her.

"Rachel!" Santana yells from the living room. "Stop sucking up to my parents by being overly helpful!"

"Santana Lopez," Rachel exclaims. "I'm doing no such thing."

Tomás follows Rachel into the living room. "You could learn a thing or two from her, young lady."

Santana sighs. "Nice. Thanks, Rach."

"I should really get going, anyway," Rachel says. "Walk me to my car?"

Santana jumps off the couch as Rachel turns to Tomás. "Thanks for dinner. I'll see you next week?"

"Of course."

Grabbing Rachel's left hand, Santana practically yanks her out of the house. They end up making out for about fifteen minutes, with Santana pressing Rachel against the driver's side door.

When they break apart, Rachel can't help but feel a bit of awe. She gently strokes Santana cheek, before giving her a passionate good-bye kiss.

"I'll see you at school, tomorrow?"

"Course," Santana replies. "Love you, babe."

"Love you too, tiger."

It must be love, Rachel thinks as she backs out of the driveway. Santana is standing in the exact same spot, watching her leave and the little wave she gives is the most adorable thing Rachel's seen in a while.

"One day, I'm going to marry her," Rachel tells herself as she heads home.


	25. Just Use a Damn Umbrella

**Title:** Just Use a Damn Umbrella  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Mike, Sue, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck wants to do an end of the year prank.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~3,900  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> previous stories in this series. (specifically Right on Target)

It's technically Noah who has the idea for an end of the year prank; though Rachel comes up with the actual prank and how to carry it out. The only reason she does, is so Noah leaves her alone; he texts her every hour for five straight days before she gives in. He even texts her while they're hanging out Friday night.

It makes her wonder if _she's_this annoying when she's being tenacious and head strong. Deciding she doesn't want to know, she doesn't bring it up to Noah.

**…**

With trying to figure out her summer schedule, Rachel can admit the idea of an end of the year prank simply slipped her mind. However, once the idea takes root, it consumes her until she comes up with the perfect plan. It only takes forty hours for inspiration to strike.

It's elaborate, but Rachel knows Noah wouldn't be satisfied with anything less. However, it's going to require Brittany and Santana's assistance as well. Rachel figures they'll be more than willing.

And so she begins planning and gathering the necessary materials.

**…**

Rachel is at her locker Monday morning when Noah approaches.

"So?"

"Yes Noah?"

"Did you come up with a plan yet?" he asks.

"Noah, it's only been two days," Rachel points out. "Besides, you could come up with something as well."

"I could," Noah agrees. "But yours will be more awesome. And once Rachel Berry starts working on something, I know the solution will be figured out quickly."

"I'm flattered by your belief in me," Rachel replies.

"So?"

Rachel sighs. "Yes. I came up with a plan."

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Noah says.

"Is the cursing really necessary?"

"Absolutely fucking necessary."

"Fine. We'll discuss _it_at another time."

"Damn straight we will," he grins.

"_Noah_."

**…**

Rachel is eating lunch in the choir room with Marisa when Brittany bounces in.

"Hi Rachel!"

"Hello Brittany," Rachel greets.

Brittany turns to Marisa. "Hi freshman whose name I don't remember."

"This is Marisa," Rachel introduces.

"Yeah. That sounds right," Brittany agrees.

"And what brings you by Brittany?"

"Puck said you needed to talk to me," Brittany explains.

"Of course he did," Rachel mumbles

"Don't worry, Rach," Brittany says. "I think I know anyway. I just wanted to tell you, of course I'll help."

"Oh. Well, thank you Brittany."

"Course Rachy." Brittany bends over slightly and picks Rachel up in a bear hug, lifting her off the chair she's sitting in. "Okay. I gotta go. See you later." She sets Rachel back in her chair before waving at them both. "Bye freshman friend of Rachel." And then Brittany skips out of the room.

**…**

"So when are we doing this?" Noah asks Rachel as they're exiting McKinley at the end of the day.

Rachel sighs. "I didn't think it possible, but I believe you've become even more impatient."

"It's just cause it's almost summer," Noah assures her.

"Hmph. Still, you need to relax a bit. It's still in the planning stages."

"But the end of the year is just three weeks away," Noah points out.

"Well, then you should have brought it up sooner," Rachel tells him.

"Hey, I was waiting for you," he replies. "I thought for sure you were saving some super awesome idea for the last moment."

"I was worrying about a lot of other things, actually," Rachel retorts.

"And that's what you have me for, bro. To remind you."

"I have a voice lesson, so we'll work on it this weekend, all right?" Rachel asks. "Friday. I'll talk to Santana about it. Do you think you can wait until then?"

"Of course," Noah scoffs. "I'm not six."

"Are you sure?"

"Shut up, Berry."

**…**

Friday night doesn't come soon enough for Rachel; mostly because Noah will not leave her alone. She knows it's been a while since they've pulled a decent prank, but he's acting like a hyperactive puppy. He's one step away from licking her face.

It is amusing watching Santana shoot him down. Tuesday, before glee, Noah grabs them before they can head into the choir room.

"Hey. I just wanted to check," he says. "Did you talk to her about it, yet?"

"Yes, Noah, I did," Rachel sighs.

"And?"

"I'm right here, Puckerman."

"Well?"

"Hell yeah, we'll hang out on Friday and figure it out. Okay?"

"Awesome."

"Jeez Puckerman, you're like a five year old that just ate a ton of pixie sticks. Calm the fuck down. Is this your first time or something? If you don't relax, you're gonna shoot your load too soon."

"_Santana, ewww_," Rachel says.

"Well it's true."

"Fuck off Lopez, I'm just excited. It's been a while."

"How did you survive before you had Rachel to tell you how to be a badass?"

"I did just fine, bitch."

Rachel sighs again. "Must you two? We're going to be late for glee."

Noah nods. "After you, ladies."

**…**

Friday afternoon, Santana drives Rachel home and forbids Puck to arrive at Rachel's any earlier than seven. She wants a little alone time with her girlfriend. She knows they'll have all day Saturday too, but Puckerman's been in Rachel's face a lot this week and Santana feels like they haven't had a moment to themselves.

"Noah's just enthusiastic," Rachel defends. "It _has_been a while since we pulled a good prank. And the end of the school year is enough of a reason to celebrate with carefully planned chaos."

"First off, I'm not sure if chaos is the right description," Santana replies. "Second, I thought you liked school."

"Well, I do believe in a proper education," Rachel starts. "And I do believe one's day should have structure. However, this means there's just one more year that we're stuck in Lima. And you have to admit _that_is something to celebrate."

"One of the best reasons."

"And technically you're correct, it does not meet the _exact_definition of chaos, but it will be rather crazy."

"You do seem to like 'em complicated, babe."

"An end of the year prank demands as much, don't you think?" Rachel muses.

"True. But doesn't that mean you're going to have to come up with a kickass beginning of senior year prank?" Santana asks.

"I suppose so. I'll have all summer to figure it out, so I'll just add it to my summer to do list."

"Summer to do list?" Santana questions. "This is the first time I'm hearing about this. What's on it?"

"Um, a number of things," Rachel replies. "There's a couple things I want to do with you and with Noah as bros. As well as things I feel need to be done before my final year of high school."

"I can think of a thing or two we should try," Santana smirks. "Can I add it to the list?"

"If you're speaking of sexual related activities, that would be a separate, more general year round to do list."

"Seriously?"

Rachel nods. "I find lists to be quite helpful."

"Maybe we could take a look at it?" Santana tries. "Cross something off before, Britt and Puck show up."

"I'd rather not," Rachel replies. "I'm not sure we'd have enough time to do things properly."

"Do things properly? What the hell is on this list?"

"How about tomorrow?" Rachel asks. "We'll have _all_day. I believe that will be an adequate amount of time to try a couple things."

"If you're purposely trying to make me crazy curious," Santana says. "Congrats. You're _really_successful.

"Well it wasn't my intent, but thank you for the info."

"Weirdo," Santana says, fondly.

**…**

The planning session goes well and Puck is satisfied with the idea Rachel lays out. Everyone is assigned a task or materials to find because unlike with the castle, a number of things are easy to find. And because it's Puck's idea, Rachel insists that he find a majority of the necessary items since he can just keep everything in his truck.

Looking over the various drawings, Puck is in awe of his bro. The level of detail is ridiculous. Never let it be said that Rachel Berry isn't detail oriented. He also wonders how the hell Rachel even knows the exact definitions of the roof.

"Blue prints, of course."

"Where the fuck did you get blue prints of McKinley?" Puck asks.

"Things are quite accessible if one knows where to look."

"That statement could have been _more_ ambiguous and _less_informative," Puck mutters.

"City hall, you moron," Santana says.

"Puck's finally mastered sarcasm," Brittany exclaims, clapping.

The only thing that stops Puck from telling Brittany to shut up is the death glare Santana shoots him. Rachel seems to be ignoring all three of them as she makes notes in her already info stuffed notebook.

**…**

Wednesday, Mike seeks out Rachel before school. He just agreed to teach a summer dance class at the community center and he's going to need a dance partner. Besides teaching with Rachel had been a lot of fun and he knows she'd be up for helping out again.

"Of course I'll be your assistant," Rachel tells him when he asks. "It would be an honor."

Mike fights a blush. "We'll be co teachers," he tells her. "I mean, you'll be helping the whole time, so it only seems fair."

"Fairness is very important," Rachel agrees.

"Great," Mike says. "When I have all the details, I'll let you know?"

"I'm looking forward to it," Rachel replies.

**…**

"Should I be worried?" Santana asks later, sprawled out on Rachel's bed.

For some reason, Coach Sylvester cancelled practice, so Santana gave Rachel a ride home and decided to hang out.

"About?"

"Chang," Santana answers. "I always thought it'd be Puckerman or Q, but maybe it's Chang."

Rachel is at her desk, typing something into her laptop. Santana is too lazy to get up and check what has her girlfriend so engrossed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel mumbles.

"You helping Mike out," Santana explains. "Spending all that time together, dancing close…"

"Don't be ridiculous, San," Rachel replies. "Mike's not my type."

"Male?"

"A jock."

Santana sits up, not expecting that answer. "He _is_on the football team," Santana points out.

"He is," Rachel agrees. "But he's a dancer."

"And dancing isn't athletic?"

"You know very well, I don't believe that," Rachel answers. "It's just… I seem to be attracted to a definite jock type. And Mike doesn't fit that stereotype. Even if he is in superb shape."

"What about me?" Santana asks.

"What about you?" Rachel counters.

"I'm not a jock," Santana says.

"You're a cheerleader."

Santana waits for more. When the only sound is Rachel typing on her laptop, she replies, "That's not the same thing."

"Isn't it?" Rachel continues to type. "You have letterman jackets, you have a coach and you've won trophies."

"I can't believe you're comparing me to those two wastes of space."

"I don't see why you're acting so insulted," Rachel comments. "I'm not trying to be cruel."

"Maybe I don't appreciate being pigeon holed," Santana replies. "Plus, comparing me to Fimbecile and Fuckerman is just mean."

"I wasn't comparing you to Finn or Noah… specifically," Rachel tells her.

"Well it sure seems like it."

"Besides," Rachel continues. "Noah does have his moments."

Santana sits up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Rachel replies. "For all his bravado and testosterone, Noah has proven to be a kind and loyal friend. In his own way."

"What the hell is _that_supposed to mean?"

Rachel finally turns away from her laptop to face Santana. "Are you purposely trying to pick a fight?"

"I'm just wondering what you could be working on that's more interesting than me?"

"Just because it's nearly summer doesn't mean I don't have things that need doing, Santana," Rachel replies.

"Like?"

"For the moment, I'd rather not say."

"What? You can't trust me?" Santana asks.

"Of course I can," Rachel says. "But it's still a work in progress."

"Hmph, yeah, well don't wait too long."

"Well to be fair, I didn't expect to have the pleasure of your company this afternoon."

Santana smirks. "Well then it's your lucky day, isn't it?"

"Let me finish this and we can do whatever you want?"

"_Whatever_?"

Rachel gives this a bit of thought and decides agreeing shouldn't be too dangerous. "Fine. Whatever."

"Okay. Let me know when you're done." Santana looks around for the remote to Rachel's TV. Finding it on the floor, she turns it on and begins channel surfing.

**…**

"Remind me why we're doing this on Sunday night instead of Thursday night?" Puck says as they load things into the bed or his truck.

"Noah, I've already explained this _three_ times," Rachel snaps. "One, I highly doubt that anyone is expecting anything to happen _tomorrow_. They're probably all assuming something will happen on Friday. Two, there's a chance that classes will be canceled tomorrow. If that were to happen on Friday, there's also a chance that Figgins would demand we come in another day to make up for Friday."

"Isn't there still a chance of that?" Noah asks.

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I just feel it's a smaller chance because in theory, there's still time to cover whatever is missed. Third, I cannot keep these things at my house any longer without suspicion rising. Just as you can't either. And fourth, it fits into my schedule the best if we do it tonight. Any more questions?"

"Not at the moment."

"Good. Shall we get going?"

**…**

Brittany and Santana are already there when they arrive and Britt has picked the lock. They begin unloading everything. They've decided it'll be easier to just lift _everything_up to the roof instead of just the big things and carrying the smaller things up the stairs. They did that when they set up the castle and Rachel felt they wasted between forty and fifty minutes doing so.

Rachel and Brittany run inside and up to the roof to get the pulley set up. Once it's ready, Puck and Santana load things onto the platform and it's pulled up. On the roof, Brittany and Rachel unload it and the process begins again.

It takes five loads before everything's on the roof. Rachel tosses two bottles of water down to Puck and Santana before beckoning them up. Santana is thankful that Rachel actually made them all wear the head lights she has because otherwise, the water bottle might have took out an eye. But as she and Puck walk up the stairs to the roof, she can't help but gulp down as much as she can. Pulling pranks with Rachel Berry is hard work.

**…**

Rachel marvels on how well they work as a team. Technically, they've only done this all together once, but apparently that was enough. Or, Rachel muses, it could be because she's used to working with all of them on pranks, separately, while Brittany and Santana are definitely used to working together.

It might have helped that she explained how everything is going to be set up and assigned everyone a project before heading out. Still, there's no grumbling or complaining and the manage to finish an hour sooner than she'd planned. Not that she'd tell them that.

They quickly clean everything up and load the tools on the pulley. It takes two loads to clear the roof and then Rachel is taking it apart. Santana helps her carry the various pieces downstairs.

While Brittany, Santana and Noah load everything into his truck, Rachel runs around the inside of McKinley, locking every door with a chain and a pad lock, just as she did for the castle. Once Rachel's certain the only possible way into the school is the front door, she sneaks out a door near the gym that doesn't have a handle on the outside. Discovering it meant that roof top pranks could be done properly.

Like before, they all head to Rachel's to change for school. Noah demands they eat something next because he's going to need it to help deal with the lack of sleep. So they all head to Rachel's favorite diner for breakfast.

**…**

Because Rachel refuses to kill time by making out with Santana while Brittany and Puck watch, they're a bit early to school. Still, there's already a crowd gathering when they arrive.

Walking into the crowd, they find Mike and Tina first.

"Hey guys," Mike greets.

"Sup," Puck replies. "What's going on?"

"Prankster," Tina answers. "He's taken the idea of a slushie shower to a whole new level."

"Oh?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah," Tina replies. "Apparently there's like three hoses hanging over the front door with a shower heads that sprays grape slushie."

"So?" Santana scoffs. "Go in a different fucking door."

"All the other doors are locked," Kurt reports, appearing next to Brittany, along with Mercedes.

"Yeah," Mercedes agrees. "Which I still don't get. Did the prankster change the locks or what?"

"Doors are probably blocked," Puck offers. "That's what I'd do-not that I'm the prankster."

"Relax Puckerman," Mercedes says. "No one thinks you're smart enough to be the prankster."

"Hey!"

"Well, unfortunately, it's true, Noah," Rachel says.

"Not cool, bro. Not cool."

Brittany's straining to see the front door over the mass of heads. "Why don't they just run through the slushie?" she asks. "It doesn't look _that_bad."

"No one wants to get a slushie shower," Mike answers.

"Figures," Rachel mutters.

"Of course all the adults would be afraid of being _touched_ by a bit of frozen water and food coloring," Kurt scoffs. "But when it happens to _us_, we just need to accept it and move on."

"Adults are fucking hypocrites," Mercedes mutters.

"Well the ones that run this school are, anyway," Rachel says.

"Does this mean classes are canceled?" Puck asks. "Because then I can leave and do something I actually want to."

"If they'd just use a damn umbrella," Rachel mumbles.

Puck elbows her. "Shut up, bro. I wanna leave."

"No one's stopping you," Santana retorts.

"No way. If I don't show up, they'll call my mom."

"She certainly has enough to deal with, without worrying about your truancy, Noah."

"That's what I'm saying, bro."

"I didn't think it was possible, but I think I've even more disappointed in this place," Tina says. "I mean, there's nothing stopping them from going inside. Cowards, all of them."

"You could go in then," Mike smirks.

"I wouldn't help them deal with slushies if it meant a million dollars," Tina replies. "Not when I don't even get to dress the way I want to express myself because our principal thinks vampires are real."

"Didn't you also convince him to change his mind for that exact reason, though?" Rachel asks.

Tina shakes her head, a small smile on her face. "That's not helpful Rachel."

"Right. Sorry."

"How long do you think this'll go before they give up?" Kurt asks.

"It's already been too long," Mike replies. "I've been here for almost a half hour."

"It always takes them a while to figure out the prankster, though," Mercedes says.

"Shouldn't all the practice make them act more efficiently?" Rachel asks.

"I think you've mistaken us for a different, well run high school," Kurt replies.

"You know what I find the most interesting?"

Everyone's head snaps to the left where Sue Sylvester is standing.

"Coach. Hi," Brittany says.

"Why aren't you with the other faculty?" Rachel asks.

"Waste of time," Sue replies. "Besides, they're not worthy of being near my greatness."

"And we are?" Puck asks.

"No," Sue tells him. "But at least you mouth breathers know it."

"You were saying, coach," Santana prompts.

"Despite the prankster constantly striking, out witting this administration and forcing them to cancel classes multiple times, you sheep still stand here, waiting to be dismissed. It's pathetic."

"So you're suggesting we just leave?" Puck asks.

"I'm sure this will be all cleared up by tomorrow," Sue replies. "I mean, eventually the slushie has to run out."

"Not necessarily," Rachel mumbles.

Sue smirks, but doesn't say anything.

"You're still here," Tina points out.

"I'm taking notes-mental notes," Sue explains. "The prankster knows their stuff."

"That's certainly true," Rachel says.

Sue inches closer to Rachel. "What are you using?"

Rachel inches closer as well. "Ice rink shavings."

"Endless supply," Sue mutters.

Rachel nods.

"What if they figure it out after we leave?" Kurt asks. "And classes aren't cancelled?"

"What are they going to do? Suspend you?" Sue asks. "There's a week of school left."

"They could hold us back," Mercedes replies.

"Only if your grades are so bad that not taking the finals mean you fail," Sue retorts. "You freaks need to read your school hand book."

"I don't believe it says anything about a person failing a grade or being held back," Rachel says.

"Are you sure?"

"Rather."

"Hmph. Well you're correct, Berry. Still, they'd have little recourse."

Rachel sighs. "Fine. I'm leaving then. San? You coming?"

"Whipped," Puck coughs.

Santana ignores him, but stomps on his foot when she walks by.

"You're really going to leave?" Santana asks, when she's standing next to Rachel.

"If they're unwilling to run through the shower of slushie, I find it highly unlikely that they'll be able to figure this out soon. And I doubt the slushie will run out. So I'm going to leave because there are plenty of things I could be doing."

"Does that include me?" Santana whispers.

"We can hear you, Santana," Mercedes says.

"And now I need to wash my ears out with soap," Kurt adds.

"That's tame in comparison to some things," Brittany says.

"Don't care," Kurt replies. "If Rachel's leaving, I think I'll be going as well. I need to fill my ears with things that don't involve girl on girl sex."

Rachel intertwines her fingers with Santana's and drags her back towards Santana's car. Kurt and Mercedes head towards his. The others shrug and follow.

"Thanks Coach," Rachel throws over her shoulder.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Berry."

**…**

School is canceled for the day, approximately twenty minutes later. Rachel receives a text from Mike who got one from Mercedes who found out because she was with Kurt who received a call from Finn who was still standing in front of McKinley when the cancelation was announced.

"Another reason to listen to Coach Sylvester," Santana says when Rachel tells her.

They're sprawled on Rachel's bed and channel surfing because Rachel insists they not do anything sexual until they know school is off, in case they need to head back.

"She just wanted to push us into leaving," Rachel replies.

"Why?"

"Who knows? To see if we would, I suppose," Rachel says.

"She seemed impressed," Santana notes.

"Hopefully," Rachel replies. "That was an impressive prank."

"Not bad for an end of the year-er," Santana agrees.

"I don't feel you're giving me enough accolades," Rachel says.

"Maybe because I was there too," Santana retorts.

"I came up with the idea," Rachel insists.

"Who got the actual slushie machine?" Santana asks.

"Brittany."

This earns Rachel an elbow to the ribs, which she wasn't expecting and she almost rolls off the bed. Santana manages to catch her at the last moment and stop her from tumbling to the ground.

"You're lucky, Lopez," Rachel growls.

"Hey, we could be naked right now, but you insisted we wait."

"Fine," Rachel huffs. "Strip."

"So romantic," Santana smirks, removing her uniform.

Rachel's response is to throw her bra in Santana's face.


	26. The Road Trip

****Once again, thanks for all the reviews, and alerts. You guys are awesome.

**Chapter Title:** The Road Trip  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck, minor Clara and Tomás  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "And what exactly is so special about Kasota, MN?"  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~7,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Previous parts of this series.  
><strong>AN:** So it's been _years_ since I've been to Wisconsin Dells and so I don't remember the name of a ride I wanted to use. I scoured the internet, but couldn't find any info on it. So I used a ride from the **Smoky Mountains Speedpark**, the Skyscraper which is the closest I could find to what I remember. And then I altered it a bit for the story.  
><strong><br>**

* * *

><p>When Rachel comes to her with the idea of a road trip with Britt and Puck, Santana is highly skeptical.<p>

And then Rachel explains where she wants to go and why.

Santana is instantly on board and now her only concern if convincing her parents.

**…**

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that please?" Clara asks.

It's Sunday dinner and Rachel thought this would be the optimal time to ask for permission.

"I was hoping you'd give permission for myself, Santana, Noah and Brittany to take a week long road trip," Rachel repeats.

"Oh. So I did hear correctly," Clara says.

"A road trip to where?" Tomás asks.

"Kasota, MN," Rachel answers.

"And what exactly is so special about Kasota, MN?" Tomás questions.

Rachel produces a small packet of information. She wanted to make a PowerPoint presentation, but Santana said it would be a sensory overload for her folks.

"But the details, San, the details," Rachel protested.

"Simple is better this time, babe," Santana told her.

And so the pair sit and wait while Clara and Tomás flip through the large amount of information Rachel has still managed to cram into a five page packet.

"I see," Clara says finally.

"I can understand why you'd want to go," Tomás says. "But you have to understand where our apprehensions come from."

Rachel nods. "We do."

"We'll have Puck with," Santana adds. "That'll help keep creeps away. And there's safety in numbers. And Rachel has everything planned to the T, including plans for the unexpected."

"Isn't that why things are unexpected?" Clara asks. "Because you can't plan for them?"

"Let me rephrase that then," Rachel supplies. "I have several emergency plans ready for particular common and uncommon things that could go wrong while on the road."

Tomás just barely holds back some laughter, but does let his smirk show.

"I realize," Rachel continues. "That there are a dozen reasons to say no. But both Santana and Noah, consider me a bit of buzz kill-"

"Rach-"

Rachel ignores her girlfriend for a moment. "So I'll be sure to keep us out of too much trouble. We won't be bar hopping or going to clubs or picking up hitchhikers or anything like that."

"We realize that, Rachel," Clara interrupts.

"We, nonetheless, have some concerns," Tomás finishes.

"Your fathers approve of this, Rachel, honey?" Clara asks.

Rachel looks at her lap. "I'm not sure they'll notice I'm gone."

If Santana didn't know better, she would think that her girlfriend is playing her mom.

"Oh, sweetie." Clara jumps up and quickly embraces Rachel.

"It's fine," Rachel sniffs.

"What about Brittany's parents?" Tomás asks. "Or Puck's mom?"

"Brittany's family said it was okay as long as we're all going," Santana answers. "Puck's mom didn't care."

"She's got enough to worry about with his little sister," Rachel adds.

"True," Santana nods.

Tomás and Clara exchange a few glances.

"We'd need your itinerary," Clara starts.

"And where you're going to stay," Tomás adds.

"And if we call to check on you, you better answer."

"What if we're in the bathroom?" Santana asks.

Clara sighs. "Well, no. But you'd better call back immediately after."

"Does that mean I can go?" Santana asks.

Tomás and Clara exchange another look.

"Yes, you can go," Tomás says finally.

"You guys are the best," Santana exclaims, jumping up and hugging Tomás first and then Clara.

"Thank you," Rachel adds. "Don't worry. I'll have that information for you before we leave."

Clara nods. "I know you will dear."

"So when do you leave?" Tomás asks.

"A week from yesterday," Rachel answers. "I figure that's enough time to get everything in order. Plus I have to be back in fifteen days because I'm teaching a dance class with Mike."

"How can you possibly have time?" Clara asks. "Don't you also have voice and dance lessons?"

Rachel nods. "There are twenty-four usable hours in every day."

"Not during the summer, there aren't," Santana mutters.

"I don't do well if I'm not busy," Rachel says.

"I'd still like it if you did _some_thing else this summer, dear," Clara tells Santana.

"Cheerios start up in August like usual and that's plenty," Santana replies.

"Coach Sylvester does work them rather severely," Rachel adds. "Though I could never sit idle for very long, Santana could probably use a short break."

"Did you just defend me and insult me in the same sentence?" Santana asks.

"Yes."

This time Tomás doesn't hold back his laughter. Santana shoots him a dirty look, which just makes him laugh harder.

**…**

Because she doesn't feel like going home to an empty house, Rachel asks to spend the night. Tomás and Clara both agree, saying the door has to be open the whole night. Grumbling, Santana agrees. Grateful, Rachel hugs both of them and then drags Santana up to her room.

They keep the door open, but Santana insists on making out on her bed anyway, just because. Not that Rachel's complaining.

She is the one that eventually pulls away first.

Santana looks annoyed, causing Rachel to look apologetic.

"It's just, I have a couple things to figure out before we go to bed," Rachel explains.

"Such as?"

"I have to plan for this trip."

"I thought you already had everything planned."

"I do," Rachel replies. "But now that it's actually happening, I have to finalize things. Plus, I'd like to talk with you, Britt and Noah about everything. Have a group planning session of sorts."

"What for?" Santana asks.

"Well, to discuss how much driving we want to do in one day or if we want to stop anywhere on the way there. Things like that."

"And you need to make an actual list?"

"I'd feel better making an actual list," Rachel insists. "What's the big deal?"

"I wanna make out more," Santana pouts.

"I just need like twenty minutes," Rachel replies. "And then we can do whatever you, San."

Santana just grins.

**…**

Monday afternoon, Rachel is in the kitchen attempting to make a vegan apple pie while Santana flips through a magazine at the table.

"Who are you making this pie for?" Santana asks. "Cause I'm so not eating that."

"I just wanted to try it," Rachel replies. "Besides, just because it's vegan, doesn't mean you won't like it."

"I thought you weren't going to push your veganism on me," Santana says.

"Making something I want to eat and then offering you some isn't exactly pushing veganism on you," Rachel retorts.

"Hi guys," Brittany says, walking in.

"Hey, B."

"Hello Brittany."

"Watcha making?"

"Apple pie."

"Yum."

"Vegan apple pie," Santana adds.

"Yum?"

"Are you early?" Santana asks. "Or is Puckerman late?"

"Noah's late," Rachel replies, without looking up. "I knew he would be. It's summer."

"Is _that_why you're baking a pie?" Santana asks.

"Yes," Rachel nods. "I figured it would keep me occupied until Noah arrived."

**…**

The pie has been in the oven for ten minutes when Puck finally shows up, looking apologetic. He gets a glare from Santana, a wave from Brittany and small smile from Rachel.

"Sorry, bro," he says. "Had to drop off my sister."

Rachel just hands him a drink as he sits down. Santana half-heartedly kicks him in the shin.

"So we need to talk about our trip," Rachel starts. "I don't want to spend the whole time listening to you guys complain, so with everyone's input we'll come up with an itinerary."

"I thought you told my folks you already had one," Santana says.

"I do," Rachel agrees. "But depending on what you guys want to do, it may need to be tweaked a bit."

The other three nod.

"Okay, so first off," Rachel says. "It's over nine hundred miles, so I assume we don't want to do that all in one day, on the way there or on the way back."

"Definitely not," Puck agrees.

"We need to be there by Tuesday night because our appointment is on Wednesday morning. We'll spend all day Wednesday there and then maybe Thursday, do nothing? Just lounge around the hotel, being lazy? Then Friday morning we leave early and do most of the drive back that day. And then on Saturday, we can be a little more leisurely and be back by early afternoon."

"What about on the way there?" Santana asks. "I mean you said we're leaving Saturday. If it only takes two days to get there, what about the other two?"

"Well, Brittany wanted to go to Wisconsin Dells and it's sort of on the way."

"Isn't that for kids?" Puck asks.

"It's a bunch of water and amusement parks, Noah. Are you saying that doesn't sound like fun?"

"Actually it sounds kind of awesome," Puck replies.

"We could stay with my cousin Saturday night," Brittany volunteers.

"Which one?" Santana asks. "The gay one or the school teacher?"

"The gay one," Brittany replies. "He lives in a suburb of Chicago. I bet he'd take us out for a good time."

"But I promised Santana's parents there'd be no bar hopping," Rachel protests.

"Doesn't he live like an hour of Chicago?"

"Forty-five minutes," Brittany answers. She turns to Rachel. "Then we'll just go to one place. Besides, if we want to drive to Wisconsin Dells Sunday morning, we don't want to be out doing too much. Right?"

"I guess."

"Plus, wouldn't it be really fun to be able to dance with San at a club?"

Rachel lets herself think about it for a moment. "Yeah," she says slowly, a rather indecent smile spreading across her face.

"Damnit, bro," Puck interjects. "I need to hang out with more dudes."

"Whatever, _Puck_," Santana says. "Rach'll find the one straight girl in the gay club for you and hook you up. Right?"

"Mmmm. Hmmm," Rachel agrees absently.

"Plus girls in bikinis at the water parks," Brittany adds.

"Oh. Okay."

Rachel shakes herself back into the present. "Okay. So it's settled. Britt, why don't you call…"

"Ryan," Santana supplies.

"Ryan and ask him. And then maybe get his address, so I can map it all out."

"So what?" Puck asks. "We hang out in Chicago for a night and then head to the water parks for how long?"

"I was planning on leaving Tuesday morning," Rachel replies. "We'll check in Tuesday night and then we'll be ready to go Wednesday."

"Awesome."

"Who's car are we taking?" Santana asks. "Cause I'm not trying to squish into Puckerman's nasty truck."

"I'm renting a car," Rachel says. "I know a guy."

"What does that mean?"

"It _means_, I'm friendly with the car rental guy and he's just charging me for mileage for a car."

"Oh. What does _friendly_mean?" Santana asks.

"Nothing that you're implying, Santana Lopez," Rachel retorts. "Must you always do that?"

"Well sometimes you're a little naive about these things, babe," Santana replies.

"And sometimes you're insanely jealous for no reason, tiger."

"Oooh, are you guys gonna fight?" Puck asks. "Let me get my cell first, so I can video it."

"Really, Noah?"

Santana just smacks him on the back of the head.

**…**

Rachel spends Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday planning and scheduling. After talking to Brittany's cousin, Ryan, she maps out their trip, even scheduling bathroom breaks. She books hotels and confirms reservations.

She's thankful she can do all this from her laptop, sitting in bed, since Santana only lets her leave to use the bathroom or get food. Rachel's insanely curious how Santana got Clara and Tomás to let her basically spend the week in bed with her girlfriend. She doesn't ask, because she's pretty sure Santana is just not going home and permission was never given.

Rachel worries a bit about this because while she kind of pushed to meet Santana's parents, she also knows they're most likely to lose the liberty and freedom they had last summer. It's just a matter of time. She's still shocked that they agreed to the road trip, but Rachel just assumes it's because it's they like and trust her; and that it's not just the two of them. Puck and Brittany are good chaperones for them being too coupley and Rachel is a good chaperone for the rest of them being too delinquent.

**…**

They all stay at Rachel's Friday night. Puck wants to do something elaborate and exciting, but Rachel refuses. She's driving the first leg, knowing the rest will most likely sleep a lot of the way. Apparently seven is too early to force them to get up in the summer.

So they end up drinking, well not Rachel, and watching TV.

After about an hour of Puck's random channel surfing, Rachel snatches the remote from him.

"I'm in charge of this now," she tells him.

"Ahhh, no fair, Rach," he protests. "You watch weird stuff."

"Just for that," Rachel says. "We're watching the History Channel."

Santana elbows him. "Nice job Puckerman."

They catch the tail end of a documentary about FDR to Rachel's delight.

Seeing she now has no interest in the TV, Santana turns her attention to her girlfriend. "Wanna make out?"

"_San_, Noah and Britt are here."

"So? They don't care."

"Well, we care a little," Brittany says.

"But only cause we wanna watch," Puck adds.

Knowing there's no way she's going to win this argument, Santana settles for pulling Rachel between her legs and making her lean back against Santana.

"God, you're such a girl, Lopez," Puck says.

"They're cute," Brittany says.

"Whatever," Puck grumbles. "As long as you're not too lovely dovey this week. I might be sick."

"You're just jealous," Santana retorts.

"Hell yeah, I am," Puck replies. "If I ever find a girl as awesome as my bro, I'm committing to her in a heartbeat."

"Did you just say, 'lovey dovey', Noah?" Rachel asks.

"_No_."

Santana and Brittany laugh.

"Shut up," Puck tries to say over their laughter.

"This is what this entire week is going to be like, isn't it?" Rachel muses.

**…**

When Rachel's alarm goes off at six, she's already up. There's so much to think about, that her brain woke her up at 5:40. Once she's ready, she spends ten minutes pushing the other three out of her bed. She'd use water, if they weren't on a schedule and she had time to clean up the mess because there's no way she's leaving water sitting on her bed for a week.

Thankfully, leaving the warm confides of the bed and finding oneself on the cold floor, even if it's summer, is enough for everyone to get up.

By the time her cohorts have stumbled downstairs for some coffee, Rachel has packed the car and had breakfast. No one else wants anything besides coffee, though Brittany does grab a banana before they all pile into the Camry Hybrid Rachel rented.

It only takes fifteen minutes for Puck to begin complaining about not having enough leg room. Despite sitting behind Rachel, he's not able to really stretch out his legs.

"As the shortest person I know," Puck says. "I have to ask why you're sitting so far back."

Rachel sighs causing Santana to nod to Brittany who elbows Puck.

"Safety dictates that a driver should be able to sit up straight and have only a slightly bent arm on the steering wheel."

"What?"

"I'm sitting how one is to properly drive, Noah," Rachel replies. "Sitting so close to the steering wheel could cause a great deal of damage if we were to get into an accident."

"Are you planning on getting into an accident?" Puck asks.

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "That's why they're called accidents."

"Well then couldn't you have rented a bigger vehicle?" Puck presses.

"This is a hybrid," Rachel tells him. "It's good for the environment, since we're doing so much driving. Besides, I didn't hear you offering up any money or another vehicle, Noah."

"Yeah, Puckerman," Brittany adds.

"Thank you, Brittany," Rachel says.

"You're welcome, Rach," Brittany replies. "Cause I gave you money, right?"

"You did indeed, Britt," Rachel says.

"Chicks," Puck grumbles.

**…**

Ninety minutes in and everyone, but Rachel is asleep. Santana is lightly dozing, hand still tightly intertwined with Rachel's. She'll occasionally open her eyes and make a comment, before closing them and dozing again.

She's finding the silence oddly comforting. Probably because there won't be too much of it soon. This is the longest leg of the drive there and so she figures the others will be more awake tomorrow, especially Brittany since she's so excited about Wisconsin Dells.

Which Rachel doesn't quite understand. It's not like there aren't other water parks in the country. Granted, most of the great ones aren't nearby, but still. She'll just have to wait and see.

**…**

Rachel stops just outside of Indianapolis for gas and food. She's personally starving and she assumes the others will be when they wake up.

She turns the music up to the point of deafness and they all jump up.

"What. The. Fuck."

Puck just groans.

"Food time," Rachel announces.

"Where are we?" Brittany asks.

"Just leaving Indianapolis," Rachel answers.

"Where are we eating?" Puck asks, apprehensive.

"You can relax, Noah," Rachel replies. "Because finding vegan options on the road is nearly impossible, I'm going to aim more for vegetarian for this week."

"Seriously?"

"Are you sure, babe?" Santana asks quietly. "I don't want you compromising yourself just for us."

"Awww," Brittany says quietly as Rachel leans in and tenderly kisses Santana.

"You are so sweet," Rachel tells her. "But I've thought it out and did my research. I think it'll be okay."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." Rachel leans in for another kiss. "Thank you."

Santana fights a rising blush. The look of adoration on Rachel's face really appeals to the hidden romantic in her.

A grunt of pain from Puck brings both of their attentions to the back seat. Apparently, Puck was going to say something, but Brittany elbowed him in the stomach to keep him quiet. Santana's grateful, even if he _still_did interrupt the moment. Though Rachel's still smiling at her like she hung the moon, so who cares?

**…**

They pull into the parking lot of Ryan's building around 4:45. Rachel had predicted five or five thirty, so she considers the day a success. They grab their bags and follow Brittany towards the building.

In the entryway, Brittany hits buzzer 4F and waits.

"That you, B?"

"Hi Ryan, we're here."

"Sorry, the elevator's broken." BZZZZZZZ

Grumbling, they trudge up four flights of stairs and through a meandering hallway before they find 4F.

Brittany knocks.

"It's open!"

The apartment's small, but homey. They follow Brittany's lead and set their things around one of the futons. A moment later, a tall, stylishly dressed, blonde enters with a smile on his face.

"Hey guys. Hi Britt."

"Hi Ryan. These are my friends. You remember Santana? This is her girlfriend Rachel and this is Puck."

Ryan nods to Santana and shakes Rachel's eagerly offered hand. He turns to Puck. "Aren't you a tall drink of water?"

"Uh, thanks, dude."

"Except for the hair. What is that about?"

Brittany giggles. "I know. Right? It's weird."

"Hey. It's cool. It's like my trademark," Puck defends.

"Trademark for a tool," Santana mutters.

"Right. Well you guys are sharing the futons," Ryan interrupts. "I know it's not the greatest, but it's only for one night."

"That's okay, Ryan," Brittany says. "We'll just go out and have fun. Right?"

"Yes, thanks for letting us stay," Rachel adds.

"It's no big," Ryan replies. "I'm always glad to hang out with Britt. And I do enjoy watching her dance."

"It is poetry in motion, isn't it?"

Ryan nods. "So here's what I'm thinking. We can chill for a couple hours, maybe get a pizza. Then when it's more club time, we'll go out to one of my favorites and hang until we get kicked out."

"How late is that?" Santana asks.

"Dunno. Like two, I guess. Rachel here says you guys don't have to leave until like eleven tomorrow, so that should be enough crash time, right?"

"Definitely," Rachel agrees.

"Yeah, that's cool," Santana says.

**…**

Three hours later there's a knock on the door as everyone's getting ready.

"Someone want to get that?" Ryan calls from his room. "It should be the BF."

Puck's the closest, so he opens the door shirtless to be greeted by a tall black man, taller than him even, in a blood red shirt, black pants and red sneakers.

"Hey, you Ryan's boyfriend?" Puck asks.

"Yep," he nods. "James."

Puck steps aside and lets him in. "Puck."

"Nice hawk, dude," James replies. "It makes a statement."

"The question is," Santana says, joining them. "What kind of statement? Santana."

"Oh sure. Nice to meet you."

"Hi handsome," Ryan greets as he exits his bedroom. "Hot as usual."

James smirks. "Where's Brittany? I've been wanting to meet her ever since you said she was stopping by."

"She's just helping Rachel in the bathroom," Santana tells them.

A moment later, Brittany struts out of the bathroom in a skirt and tank top. James lets out a whistle. Ryan elbows him.

"Whatever dude," James says. "She may be your cousin, but she's still hot."

"Damn straight," Rachel says following Brittany out.

"Damn…" Puck groans.

Rachel is wearing the shortest skirt Santana has ever seen her in and that's saying a lot. She wearing a white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up and there are definitely more buttons undone than done. When the light catches just right, Santana gets a glace of white lace and she has to mentally slap herself from mentally undressing her girlfriend; especially since she can't do anything about it for a while.

"What?" Rachel asks. "Too much? I kept it simple."

"I'm not sure that even qualifies as a skirt," Puck says. "Damn, bro."

"I'm going to have to keep an eye on you all right, aren't I, babe?"

"Not really," Rachel replies. "I don't plan on leaving your side, so I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Let's get out of here before I faint from all the hotness," Ryan says.

**…**

They pile into James' Yukon, turn up the music and head into Chicago. The way James drives, it only takes a half hour and then they're parking. Before they get out, James hands over four fake IDs.

"I'm kind of surprised you guys don't already have some," he tells them as they climb out.

"Got confiscated," Puck says.

"Never needed one," Santana winks.

Ryan just shakes his head and takes James' hand. Santana does the same with Rachel's and they follow across the street.

The line isn't too long, but not everyone gets in. When they finally reach the bouncer, it's obvious that he recognizes Ryan and James and just waves them through. He glances at Puck's before nodding. Seeing Brittany he doesn't even bother, just waves her through. He does the same when he sees Santana and Rachel.

"Better keep an eye on her," he tells Santana as they slide by.

"Are you wearing some sort of pheromone that screams sex or something?" she whispers to Rachel as they push their way through the crowd.

"Maybe it's just my natural scent," Rachel whispers back.

"Well, stop it," Santana replies. "You're gonna make all these people think they have a chance. It's cruel."

Rachel chuckles.

They find a small table with a few stools near the back. Puck and Ryan go get some drinks while Brittany immediately heads to the dance floor. Rachel and James start talking about his job, while Santana tries to keep an eye on Brittany. She can take care of herself, just fine, but that doesn't mean Santana doesn't worry.

**…**

Three hours later, Santana and Rachel are on the dance floor, working up a sweat; as are James and Ryan. Brittany will occasionally join them, but at the moment she's talking to one of the few straight girls in the club and trying to have her come hang out with Puck.

**…**

When they get back to Ryan's place, it's almost three in the morning. It doesn't take much effort to get the two futons flat and it isn't long before Ryan and James are disappearing into Ryan's bedroom.

Not feeling that tired, Puck turns on the TV as the girls take turns in the bathroom; first Rachel, then Santana and finally Brittany. Puck watches in amusement as all three girls collapse on the other futon. He knows he should be insulted, but he'd honestly rather have an entire futon to himself to stretch out. Besides, the image of the three of them curled together can so be put into his spank bank.

"You better not stay up much later, Noah," Rachel warns. "We're leaving at eleven, no matter what."

"No prob, bro."

**…**

When Ryan stumbles out of bed to make coffee, he finds Brittany and Santana curled around Rachel on one futon while Puck is stretched out on the other. Yawning and heading towards the kitchen, he wonders if there's anything his cousin forgot to mention.

**…**

It takes Santana kicking Puck to the floor, but they're all up and ready by ten am.

"Thanks for letting us stay," Rachel says, hugging Ryan. It's a bit awkward since he's almost a foot faller than her, but they manage. "And for taking us out."

"You looked like you had a good time," he comments.

"A _great_time."

"The _best_time," Brittany adds, getting a hug.

"Yeah, thanks," Santana says, shaking first Ryan's hand and then James'.

"It was my pleasure," Ryan says. He leans into Santana and lowers his voice. "Though, I have to ask. Are the three… you know?"

Santana shakes her head. "B's always been so… touchy feely. And since we've been best friends forever, I guess she figures that translate to my girlfriend too."

"Oh. Weirdly that totally makes sense for Britt."

"I know, right?"

Ryan and James walk them down to the rental and watches Puck stuff their bags into the truck. This morning, Santana's driving and so Rachel takes the passenger seat as Puck and Brittany climb into the back.

As they pull away, Brittany sticks her head and arm out the window and waves goodbye.

**…**

They stop a few hours later just outside of Madison for lunch. It's a small family run restaurant and Rachel's hoping she can find some better options than the truck stop. Though, she knew she'd have limited options, she didn't realize how unappealing they would seem.

**…**

They pull into Wisconsin Dells around three pm. Rachel's hoping that it won't be as busy if they check in on a Sunday.

The hotel that Rachel's chosen has a massive outdoor water park on one side and an amusement park on the other.

While Rachel checks in, Puck is sitting in the backseat, humming with excitement.

"And you didn't want to come here," Brittany says, smirking.

**…**

They hit the amusement park first, deciding to save the water park for tomorrow, in hope they'll be less kids. They ride all the roller coasters, all the water rides and then the swings to dry off.

By seven, Puck's complaining about being hungry and so they all pile into the car and look for a place to eat.

**…**

They sleep in and have brunch before heading to the water park. They spend the day splashing around, though mostly Puck and Brittany while Rachel and Santana either float in the water leisurely or stretch out in the sun.

**…**

Because it's a family orientated city, there aren't a lot of late night options. Monday night, they end up getting pizza and going through the Ghost Out Post Haunted House.

And then Santana bets Puck he doesn't have the guts to ride the Skyscraper.

After watching a ten year old girl on it, giggling, Puck can't back down and so he slaps down the twenty bucks and climbs in.

The Skyscraper is a one armed swing ride. The single rider is strapped into a canopy seat that is attached to arm. The rider is then hurled forward in a circle for two and a half minutes. This is followed by the rider being hurled backwards in a circle for another two and a half minutes. At sixty miles per hour. In addition, the ride operator will spin the canopy seat in a small tight circle as the rider is also hurled forward, completely disorientating the passenger.

Puck ends up screaming at the top of his lungs as he does it, which has Santana practically rolling on the ground.

"Well I did it," he says, staggering back to them. "I totally win the bet."

"I don't know," Santana replies. "You sure were screaming like a little girl; a lot more than the _actual_little girl. I think you should lose for being a wuss."

"That wasn't the bet, Lopez," Puck protests. "You only said I had to do it."

"Yeah, well, too bad."

"No way, Lopez," Puck replies. "A bet's a bet. I win."

"What if Santana does it as well?" Rachel asks, stepping in between the two. "If she's not such a scaredy cat, then she wins. If she's just as frightened, then you win."

"E tu, bro?" Puck asks.

"Scared, Puckerman?"

"Whatever," he scoffs. "I'll take that deal."

Santana nods and stalks over to the Skyscraper. She hands over her twenty bucks and climbs in. A few moments later, she's flying through the air, screaming.

"Those don't sound like screams of fear," Brittany says. "I think S won."

"Awww, damnit," Puck groans. "Why can't you girls ever cut me a break, once in a while?"

"You should really know better than to bet with Santana," Rachel tells him. "She plays to win."

"That's for true," Brittany adds.

A smirking Santana greets them a little later.

"So, I am the victor, correct?" she asks Puck.

"Yeah, yeah, just get it over with, Lopez," he grumbles.

Not knowing what exactly the bet was, Brittany and Rachel watch Santana suck on a finger from each hand before giving Puck a wet willy in each ear.

"Damn, that is so gross," Puck shudders as he tries to wipe at his ears.

"Sometimes childish bets are the best," Santana smirks.

"Certainly the grossest," Rachel adds.

"What else can we bet about?" Brittany asks.

"Nothing," Puck says. "Or I'll end up getting kicked in the nuts or something."

"Why on earth would you agree to a bet like that?" Rachel asks.

"Oh shut it, Rach."

**…**

The next morning they sleep in again. They have some of the continental breakfast and pack up their things. While Rachel checks out, the others throw their things in the truck and pull the car up front.

Brittany's driving today while Rachel is riding shotgun, since she's in charge of the directions. Both Santana and Puck are a bit nervous about Brittany driving, but assume Rachel can handle it.

**…**

St. Peter is definitely not the hoping town Santana was expecting. Rachel chides her since she's already explained that they'd be nothing to do in St. Peter.

"This is even smaller than Lima," Santana says. "No wonder they do it around here. There's nothing else around to entertain people."

"It's just a place to stay," Brittany says as she parks the car in front of the hotel. "Besides, what's wrong with doing nothing? We've already done a lot."

"I suppose that's true," Santana allows.

**…**

They end up getting pizza again and then going to see a movie. Puck wants to try and buy alcohol with the fakes from Ryan, but Rachel won't let him.

"If we get busted before tomorrow, I will have to hurt you, Noah," she tells him. "It took too much to get here. Stop being ridiculous."

Puck visibly gulps.

After the movie, they wander around town a bit before heading back to the hotel.

**…**

The next day they're up and ready, bright and early. They all pile into the car and drive to Kasota.

The sign for Drive A Tank is easy to follow and all too soon, they're parking. They follow Rachel to the armory to register and check in. Because there's four of them, Rachel was able to book the whole day with no one else involved. So as soon as they're registered and ready, their instructor appears.

He introduces himself and outlines the day for them. They follow Randy into the Troop Training Room. There they learn about various armored vehicles, as well as how and where they are used. Next they're given a tour of the Restoration area, where the tanks are reassembled after being shipped to Kasota; as well as the Maintenance and Storage Facility in the Motor Pool, where the tanks have their oil changed and parts kept up.

They are then transported to the field command headquarters in a classic military transport vehicle. Here they are once again briefed about safety and proper tank driving.

Rachel, Puck and Brittany have the 3 Star Lieutenant General's package, while Rachel got Santana the 4 Star General's package. So each of them take a turn driving the FV 433 Abbot, through a wooded course with Randy riding shotgun.

Then they watch as Santana drives a FV432 APC through a challenge course. Santana has to maneuver it through a combat situation. She has a few close calls, but makes it through without destroying anything she wasn't supposed to.

Not wanting to miss a chance to crush a car, Puck bought himself one car to crush. Santana's was included in the package, so both stand and listen to car crushing tips and required safety guidelines.

Puck goes first. Climbing into "Larry" the Chieftain Main Battle Tank, he's so excited, he seems to be vibrating. Randy climbs in after him and Brittany, Santana and Rachel watch him drive over a 1908s Oldsmobile.

Santana's next. Randy goes over everything again for her as they climb into Larry. With Randy guiding her, she crushes an old Dodge. Climbing out of it, she can't hold in her excitement.

It's picture time after that as Rachel snaps pictures of Puck next to the tank and the crushed car. She does the same for Santana.

Next is part two, historic military fire arms.

They follow Randy back to the Troop Training Facility. There they meet Tony who gives them an Arms Familiarization and Usage course. They learn about various historic military firearms; how they were used, where they were used and who used them.

They are then allowed to choose which firearm they'd like to test fire in the indoor range. Puck, of course, chooses a large automatic weapon. Brittany picks a rifle and Rachel a smaller automatic weapon. Santana is allowed to fire three, so she picks a revolver, a rifle and an automatic weapon.

Next they're each handed goggles and ear protectors. After putting them on, they follow Tony into the live fire range.

Puck, Brittany and Rachel and each given a spot and each is approached by a firearms trainer. Each goes over the safety instructions one more time. Once the targets are declared clear, they're allowed to shoot. Once they're done, their targets are retrieved. Brittany, despite having the most difficult weapon, had the best aim, which she waves in Puck's face.

Since Santana has three, she steps up to the cubicle that Rachel just vacated. She is given the safety instructions once more and then she's firing. They get a new target after each weapon runs out of ammo. Santana is also quite accurate.

Once she's finished, Tony asks if they want to fire anything else, but running low on funds, they all decline.

So they return the weapons and Tony walks them out.

**…**

Rachel drives because Puck and Santana are practically vibrating with excitement and Brittany, not to be left out, is bouncing around as well.

"_That_was so fucking awesome!" Puck exclaims from the back seat.

"Yeah, you are so fucking amazing for finding that, babe," Santana adds.

"Language, you two."

"This is a curse worthy moment, Rachy," Brittany pipes up.

"I'm glad you guys had fun," Rachel smiles.

"And you didn't, bro?"

"I did as well, Noah," Rachel replies. "How many people can say they've driven a tank?"

"Exactly, bro, exactly."

**…**

They pass a liquor store on the way back, so Rachel pulls over and Puck runs in, hoping to get beer. He returns ten minutes later with a twenty-four pack of bottles and a pint of peppermint schnapps.

Santana suggests they eat in, so the find a Chinese place and call in an order.

Once they're back in the room, they spend the night eating, drinking and regaling each other with tales of the day.

**…**

They sleep until noon since they were up late, drinking. Well, Rachel gets up at ten and goes for a run. She's feeling a bit restless. She's having a great time, but really misses her daily workout. She runs to Minnesota Square Park, around it and back to the hotel. It's almost three miles and she feels much better upon her return.

She creeps into the room and slips into the bathroom to shower.

**…**

When Santana wakes up, she's pretty sure Rachel isn't next to her. It's difficult to tell since Rachel booked a room with a king size bed and so they're all snuggled together. It still weirds Santana out that _Puck_of all people is a cuddler.

She remembers falling asleep spooning Rachel, while being spooned by Brittany, but that doesn't seem to be true anymore. Sitting up slowly, she looks around and finds Rachel reading in the corner.

Rachel seems engrossed in her book and the other two are still asleep, so Santana gets up and takes a shower.

**…**

When everyone is up and dressed, it's almost two. Rachel only looks mildly exasperated with the slothfulness.

"Who uses the world slothfulness?" Puck asks.

"Like you even know what that word means, Puckerman," Santana says.

"I'm hungry," Brittany interrupts.

Slipping on sunglasses, they go in search of food.

**…**

They end up spending the rest of the day in the room. They have to get up early to head back and there's still some beer left, so Puck tackles that. Santana and Brittany finish the Schnapps while Rachel reminds them to drink water because being hung over in a car is horrible and she's not pulling over every ten minutes so they can throw up.

"…and if anyone throws up in the rental, not only are they cleaning it out, they're paying for it."

"It's just a few beers, Rach," Puck says.

"I know. I'm simply informing you of how the drive tomorrow will _not_be happening."

"Am I drunk or are you being kinda harsh?"

"Cleaning up other people's vomit makes me cranky, Noah."

"I feel like that's true for everyone, Rach," Brittany pipes up.

**…**

At seven Friday morning, Puck drags himself outside and collapses in the car. After the beer, he did a couple shots of Schnapps because he wasn't going to waste it. Maybe mixing beer and liquor isn't the best plan.

Brittany is a subdued bouncy, so he hopes she'll be somewhat calm in the car. Santana is already in the front seat, sunglasses on, head leaning against the window.

A moment later, Rachel is climbing in.

"Okay," she says. "So we're all checked out. Everyone double checked that didn't forget anything, correct?"

There are murmurs of agreement.

"I hope you're not just saying that to get me to shut up," Rachel continues. "Because if we left anything here, I am not going to listen to you guys whine about it."

"Don't worry, Rachel," Brittany says. "I double checked for both San and Puck. Cause they'll be really annoying if we forgot something."

Rachel chuckles. "True. Okay, so we're off."

**…**

They stop for food and gas in Mason City, Iowa. It's a truck stop again, but the greasy food appeals to the hung over and it's right there.

Back on the road, they're still sleeping; well, Santana and Puck. Brittany sits up front and chats with Rachel.

**…**

They roll into the outer limits of Indianapolis around six. Rachel's making someone else drive tomorrow, she decides. Eleven hours is a long time, even with several breaks for food, gas and bathroom breaks.

They get pizza delivered and watch TV. Rachel falls asleep first.

**…**

So of course she's the first one up in the morning. She decides to try out the hotel exercise room. She leaves a note, grabs a key and heads for the elevator.

**…**

By the time she's worked out, showered and dressed, everyone else is up. After getting ready, they decide to have brunch and then head out.

**…**

Sick of driving, Rachel makes Puck drive. She decides to curl up in the back seat with Santana. Brittany takes the front seat and makes Puck sing along to the radio with her. Despite the trip being over, they're all in a pretty good mood.

"It'll be nice to be in a car for less than a couple hours at a time," Santana says.

"Yes," Rachel agrees.

"And some alone time," Santana adds.

Rachel just smirks.

**…**

They pull into Rachel's driveway at 4:30. Puck sprints towards the house, hoping to use the bathroom. He ends up standing awkwardly at the door as he waits for Rachel to unlock the door.

After unloading their bags, Puck offers to follow Rachel to the car rental place, so she can return it.

The ride back to Rachel's is quiet. Rachel keeps glancing over at Puck and he has a smile on his face, so for once, she doesn't say anything.

"You are the best, bro," he tells her as he pulls up in front of her house.

"It was fun, wasn't it?"

"You're just full of surprises."

"See you later?"

Puck nods and watches Rachel walk into her house before speeding off.

**…**

Santana is sprawled out on Rachel's bed when she enters the room.

"You only drove four hours," Rachel points out, settling on the bed next to her.

"Road trips are exhausting," Santana says, muffled as she speaks into the pillow.

"But you had fun, right?"

Santana rolls over. "The best."

Rachel smiles. "Good."

**… **… **…******

**A/N:** This place really does exist. So if you want to drive a tank and fire historical firearms, go to: driveatank . com


	27. Some Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days

**Chapter Title**: Some Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Mike, Quinn, Brittany, Puck, Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, OCs: Alyson Tyler, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Felix Lopex, Marisa Lawson, Kat Tyler, Missy Watters, Wendy Kory, Josh Tyler  
><strong>Rating:<strong> barely R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "So I think a significant amount of time has passed," Rachel says. "To set Quinn up on a blind date."  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~18,050  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> previous stories in the series.  
><strong><br>**

Summer in Lima is exactly as Santana remembers it. They were only gone for a week, but it feels like longer. It's late Saturday night when they return and so Santana spends the night at Rachel's.

It's nice to be alone with her girlfriend. Brittany's her best friend and Puck's not the worst guy she knows, but she missed having some one on one time with Rachel. If Santana didn't already know how whipped she was, she would now, since one on one time doesn't necessarily mean sex.

**…**

Which isn't to say they don't spend most of Sunday in bed. Santana wakes up to coffee and Rachel crawling back into bed.

"Thanks," she grumbles, sipping the hot liquid.

Rachel nods as she drinks her tea and flips through the paper.

It's sickenly domestic; and while that used to scare the shit of Santana, she's instead decided to embrace it. Brittany's told her again and again that she and Rachel belong together and she should just go with it.

"Besides, everyone already thinks you're whipped. But they're still scared of you. So what does it matter."

Santana can concede that point; which is why she sets down her coffee mug and straddles Rachel.

"Santana," Rachel scolds. "What have I said about interrupting me when I'm reading the Sunday New York Times?"

"That it's not allowed?" Santana teases. "Sorry, babe, but I wanted a good morning kiss." She leans in, half expecting to be pushed away.

Rachel, with a fond smile on her face, shakes her head in amusement and pulls Santana closer. They kiss leisurely for a few moments before Rachel pulls away.

"Now may I finish reading?" she asks.

"Yes dear," Santana replies, sliding off her. She takes another sip of coffee and grabs a section of paper to read.

**…**

Sunday evening arrives too soon for Santana. Even if Rachel wasn't adamant about going, she'd still be going home for Sunday night dinner. After being gone a week, her mother would tar and feather her if she didn't show up. The fact that her parents let her go on a road trip with her girlfriend and two trouble making friends is still rather unbelievable.

They're a bit early; at Rachel's insistence. While Santana goes upstairs to put her things away, Rachel goes into the kitchen to say hello. She receives a hug from Clara and immediately offers to help with dinner.

"That would be lovely dear," Clara says. "But perhaps you could go say hello to Tomás first? And have your wayward girlfriend join you?"

"Certainly."

Rachel goes up to Santana's room and knocks on the door. She finds Santana putting things away.

"Your mother wanted me to remind you to say hello to your father once you're done up here."

"Seriously?" Santana asks without turning around. "By the time I'm done, it'll probably be time for dinner."

"Oh. Well, then I'm going to go say hello then, if you don't mind."

"Course, babe," Santana replies. "He'll probably be more excited to see you anyway."

"You know he just enjoys teasing you," Rachel tells her.

"Whatever you say, Rach."

Rachel just shakes her head and heads back downstairs.

"Hey sis," Felix greets her as she reaches the bottom of the stairs.

"Felix, hello," Rachel replies. "I see you're back from college."

"Indeed," he agrees. "Staying for the summer."

"I figured."

"Right. Of course." Felix shrugs. "So how was your trip?"

"Lovely. A nice get away," Rachel replies.

"Good. Going to see the old man?"

Rachel nods. "It was your mother's suggestion."

"Well don't let me stop you."

Rachel nods again and makes her way to Tomás' study. She knocks firmly twice and waits. When she receives permission to enter, she opens the door and slides inside.

"Hello Tomás," Rachel greets. "Clara suggested I stop in and say hello before dinner."

"Did she now?" Tomás asks, spinning around to face Rachel. "Well then I count myself lucky."

Rachel smiles. "It's nice to see you too. Though no more time has passed than the usual amount between my visits."

"That may be true," Tomás agrees. "But we expect to see you more, now that it's summer."

"Oh. Well, I'm not sure how possible that will be. Just because it's summer, doesn't mean I don't have a full schedule. I have various dance classes and vocal lessons, plus I'm helping a friend teach dance at the community center."

Tomás shakes his head. "Santana said you hate to be idle for too long."

"Idle hands are the devil's playground."

Tomás chuckles. "I suppose that's true."

"I'll let you get back to work, then," Rachel says. "I just wanted to say hi."

Tomás smiles. "I'll see you in a bit, Rachel."

**…**

The five of them sit down to dinner about fifteen minutes later. There's the usual chatter as everyone settles in and begins eating. Clara asks about the trip and Rachel fills in bits and pieces, saving Santana the effort. Which is probably good since her stories wouldn't be as detailed or entertaining as Rachel's. Plus, Santana has a tendency to not censor herself, which considering the company, may have embarrassed Rachel.

"So now that you're back, it'll be a lazy summer?" Felix asks. "Sanny here, is always a lazy ass over the summer."

"Language, Felix," Clara says.

"Hardly," Rachel says. "Because it's the summer before our final year of high school, being lethargic is out of the question. I still have plenty of voice and dance to attend this summer. Not to mention I'm helping out Mike with the dance class he's teaching at the community center."

"Mike?"

"Chang," Santana answers.

"Oh, yes," Clara says. "Another polite young person I can't believe associates with you."

"Nice mom," Felix chuckles

"Thanks," Santana snaps.

"And Santana still has Cheerios," Rachel continues. "I realize that doesn't start immediately, but once it does, Coach Sylvester is quite the slave driver."

"True," Tomás agrees. "That woman is what you get when a drill sergeant and a Doberman Pinscher reproduce."

"Actually her mother's a Nazi hunter," Rachel throws out. "Which I think explains a lot."

"It does actually," Clara agrees. She turns to Santana. "And so what exactly are _your_plans this summer?"

"Hanging with Rachel," Santana answers. "Cheerios starts back up in August."

"So what? You're going to lounge around Rachel's house and distract her?"

Santana shrugs. "Basically."

"You're not spending your whole summer over there, Santana," Clara tells her. "You're only spending Saturday nights over there. You'll still come to dinner Sunday night and Rachel can stay over here. But that's it."

"_Mom_."

"You'll still have your usual summer curfew, otherwise," Clara continues.

"But I'm doing it for Rachel," Santana protests.

"Oh?"

"With her dads not being around that much, I don't want her to be alone," she explains. "At least during school, she sees other people during the day. But in summer, she'll just be seeing her teachers."

"And Mike," Rachel adds.

"Quiet you," Santana shushes. "You don't want her alone all the time, do you?"

"What about Brittany or Mike or that Puckerman boy?"

"Well, yeah, there's those guys, but…"

"Awww, little Santana doesn't want to be away from her girlfriend," Felix teases. "So adorable. Who knew you were such a-ow! C'mon San, that hurt."

"Whatever, wuss."

"Santana, what did you do?" Rachel asks.

"I just reminded him that I'm tougher than he is," she replies.

"Santana, don't kick your brother," Clara says, sounding tired. "You're both too old for that."

"I will _never_be too old to kick him," Santana retorts.

Rachel tries to hide her chuckle in her napkin, but the smirk on Santana's lips tell her she wasn't terribly successful.

"Lord give me strength," Clara says. "You two will never grow up, will you?"

"Nope," Santana answers, unapologetically.

"Sorry mom," Felix mumbles.

"Suck up," Santana mutters.

"What are you doing this summer, Felix?" Rachel asks.

"Got my usual summer job, hang out with a few guys from high school and as little as possible."

It amuses Rachel how similar Felix and Santana can be. She wonders if they realize. Judging by the smirk on Clara's face, Rachel doesn't think they have yet.

"Well, we should hang out too," Rachel tells him.

"That'd be cool."

"What?" Santana interjects. "No way."

"Why not?"

"Because. Because he's Felix," Santana protests.

"That really isn't an argument Santana," Rachel tells her.

"Whatever. We'll talk about it later."

"Whatever you say, dear," Rachel replies.

**…**

Rachel insists on going back to her place to grab a few things and Felix offers to go with her. The only thing that stops Santana from protesting is a glare from her mother. So while her girlfriend and pain in the ass older brother head back to Rachel's, Santana helps clean up dinner.

"What?" Santana asks after feeling her father's eyes on her for five minutes.

"It's nice to have you back," he replies.

"Sheesh, papa, we were only gone a week."

"Believe it or not, but your mother and I enjoy having you around," Tomás tells her.

"You mean cause of Rachel?"

"Maybe," Tomás says. "I think she brings out a lot of good things in you. And vice versa."

"Yeah?" Santana asks. "Cause some days it seems like you really do like her best."

Tomás chuckles. "San, we love Rachel because you do. And honestly, we love you together. I can finally relax a bit because I don't have to worry about you. I know Rachel will take care of you."

"I can take care of myself."

"But isn't it nice to let someone else, every once in a while?"

Not meeting his eyes, Santana says, "Yeah."

"Then maybe you could do what your mother asked?" Tomás asks. "And be around a bit more this summer? Rachel's always welcome."

"I know."

"Good."

**…**

The knock on her door Tuesday morning is a surprise. Looking at the clock tells Rachel it's too early to be Santana. She's just gotten back from a voice lesson and isn't expecting anyone.

It's Mike who greets her with a surprising hug which she returns with a smile.

"Did you have a good time?" Mike asks as he follows her into the kitchen.

"I did," Rachel replies. "Drink?"

"Water is fine."

Rachel grabs two bottles out of the fridge. Handing one to Mike, she joins him at the table.

"I was hoping you'd have time to talk about the class a bit," Mike says. "First one is next week."

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I've got it written down. Tuesday and Thursday from one to three."

"Great." Mike pulls out a notebook and spreads it on the table. "So here's what I was thinking."

**…**

Santana doesn't show up until almost two p.m. She just misses Mike who stayed for lunch and conversation before taking off. Like her, he continues to take classes during the summer and so he had to leave, but promised they'd hang out later in the week.

Rachel knows that Santana's slothfulness is because for ten months of the year, she's dealing with Coach Sylvester's severe schedule. She understands why Santana wants to sleep in; Rachel just misses her. She feels a bit pathetic. They just spend a whole week together. Not to mention they spend Saturday and Sunday night together. She should be able to survive for a few hours.

How the hell is she going to survive college?

**…**

Wednesday, Brittany shows up before Santana does. Rachel is rather delighted since she hasn't seen the blonde since they returned Saturday night. And after a week of constant exposure, it's odd to go days without seeing her.

Rachel is up in her room looking over the information Mike gave her about the class they're teaching when Brittany knocks on the door, before opening it and stepping into the room.

"Hi Rachel," Brittany greets.

"Hi Britt," Rachel replies. "I'd ask how you got in, but it's probably better I don't." She sets down the packet of paper and faces Brittany.

Brittany shrugs. "Okay."

"So what brings you by?"

"I missed you Rachy."

"Thanks, Brittany," Rachel replies. "I admit it has felt rather odd not seeing you after so much exposure."

"Santana still sleeping?"

"I guess."

"I thought for sure, S would be here, Rach," Brittany says. "I was kinda hoping to kill two cats with one stone. How come she didn't spend the night?"

"Not allowed."

"Really?"

"Indeed," Rachel tells her. "Clara and Tomás, considering all they know, have been fairly lax for parents. Don't you think?"

"I suppose so."

"And I can spend time over there," Rachel continues. "If the house is getting too empty. It's just Santana'd rather not."

"Well, I'm sure if you asked post orgasm, she'd agree," Brittany says.

"I'm sure she would," Rachel agrees. "But it seems unnecessary. I'm fairly busy during the summer and it's really only at night does the house get lonely."

"Well then you should spend the night at Santana's."

"Maybe," Rachel allows. "We'll see how it goes."

"Or you could come over and spend the night with me," Brittany continues. "We can totally cuddle. S won't mind."

."That could be fun."

**…**

When Santana eventually shows up, Brittany suggests they all go to the park. Santana doesn't protest, but when they get to the park, she stretches out on a bench and waves away Rachel and Brittany's attempts to have her join them.

Brittany and Rachel swing for a bit, before literally dragging Santana off the bench and having fun with them. They spend a couple hours running around like little kids.

**…**

Thursday, Rachel is trying out a new vegan carrot cake recipe because she's determined to get Santana to admit to liking a vegan recipe out loud. Which of course means Santana just asks if something's vegan before she comments on it. Rachel tried lying once, but apparently Santana can tell that she's lying; which Rachel finds extremely inconvenient.

The knock on her door is once again a surprise. She's so used to being in her own little world at home that it always surprises her when someone else wants to intrude. Wiping her hands on a towel, she goes to answer it.

Opening the door reveals, Felix.

"Hey Rachel."

"Felix, what a lovely surprise," Rachel replies. "I'm assuming you're not looking for Santana?"

"No," Felix agrees. "That lazy bum is still sleeping."

"She barely sleeps during the school year," Rachel defends. "What with Cheerios and glee and school."

Felix just shakes his head, with a smirk. "You two." He follows Rachel into the kitchen.

"Excuse the mess, I was baking," Rachel says. "So what brings you by?"

"I was hoping we could hang out a bit, before Santana rolled out of bed," Felix replies. "I have to work in a couple hours, but maybe lunch?"

"That sounds lovely," Rachel tells him. "And you can keep me company while I finish up this carrot cake. I'm just about done and then I can scrounge something up for lunch."

"That seems unfair," Felix says. "I didn't come over here to be fed."

"Well, the cake takes approximately forty minutes," Rachel replies. "Is that too long of wait?"

"I could go get something and bring it back," Felix offers. "Or maybe delivery?"

"That seems like a lot of effort for a simple lunch," Rachel says. "What if I just make sandwiches? We have non vegan things. Neither of my fathers is."

"Are you sure?" Felix asks. "I just wanted to hang out. It's just between work and your lessons, this is the only time that really worked."

"It's fine, Felix," Rachel assures him. "I appreciate the visit, no matter what."

"Well if you're sure," Felix allows. "Then a sandwich would be great."

"Super," Rachel smiles.

**…**

Santana gets amusingly huffy when she finds out that Rachel had lunch with Felix.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Rachel says.

"Rach, it's my brother. He's… I don't know, but I guess it's weirding me out a bit, still, how much my family likes me."

"Because I'm so unlikable?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Santana scoffs. "Because, as I'm sure my parents have already told you, they never really liked anyone else. Not that anyone's really been steady enough for them to like."

"What about Brittany?"

"Brittany's different."

"True enough.

**…**

Noah shows up Friday afternoon intent on having a party at her place. She refuses, not trusting her classmates in her house.

"Okay. What about a few choice people then?" Noah tries.

"I don't know what that means."

"Like glee. That freshman-"

"Technically she'd be a sophomore now," Rachel interrupts.

"A couple guys from the team that don't suck. A Cheerio or two besides our girls. "C'mon."

"Fine. But if anyone shows up that I disapprove of, you will be throwing them out. Or else."

"Absolutely, bro. I can do that. With pleasure."

"It's already four, though," Rachel points out. "Kind of short notice."

"It's summer in Lima," Noah retorts. "Like there's something better going on."

Rachel can concede that point.

**…**

Surprisingly, only about twenty people show up. Which Rachel considers a triumphant, since half of them are from glee. It's small and causal and so Rachel doesn't feel too worried about how things will turn out. She decides to indulge.

In the kitchen, she finds Noah and asks him to find her a drink. His answering grin is devious and dangerous. He grabs a red plastic cup and starts adding small amounts of various liquors. He grabs a spoon and mixes it vigorously.

"Drink this first."

"What is it?" Rachel asks, accepting the cup.

"An acid cookie," Noah replies. "You need a shot before you can start properly drinking."

"Noah, just because I requested an alcoholic beverage, doesn't mean-"

"Rach, bro, trust me. Just down the damn thing and then I'll make you an actual drink."

"Very well." Rachel quickly swallows the contents of the cup.

Noah snatches the red cup back and begins to add a few more ingredients before stirring briskly. He returns to cup to Rachel.

Rachel takes a tentative sip. It's not bad.

"What is this?"

"A Red Headed Slut," Noah smirks.

"You just want to hear me say slut all night, don't you?"

"Well, we have the ingredients," Noah replies. "Besides, I bet by the time you finish that one, you'll have no problem saying slut. Your tolerance sucks."

"We can't all have the tolerance of a functional alcoholic, Noah," Rachel tells him. "But thank you for the drink."

"No prob, bro."

**…**

Rachel is gliding out of the kitchen when a familiar face opens the door.

"Marisa, hi," Rachel greets. "I'm so glad you came."

"Hi Rach," Marisa replies, gesturing to the two people on right. "I hope it's okay that I brought some people."

"Of course," Rachel tells her, throwing her arms up and out. "The more the merrier."

"Are you drunk?" Marisa asks.

"Not quite," Rachel answers. "So who'd you bring?"

"Oh, well, this is Tom Mercer and Beatrice Swann. Fellow theater geeks."

"Awesome. Glad you could make it guys."

Artie suddenly appears at Rachel's side. "Hey Rach, did you know that—hey, Tom, man. What's up?"

"Hey Artie."

"_This guy_," Artie says, pointing to Tom. "Is like the most awesome piano player ever."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He's in jazz band with me. Can't sing for shit, but man can he play."

"Thanks," Tom says.

"Well you guys, go have fun," Rachel says. She turns to Artie. "So what's up?"

"Oh. Well, I was just giving you a heads up. There's a couple Cheerios looking for you."

"Um, well, considering who's here, I'm not too concerned," Rachel replies. "But thanks for the heads up."

"I'm just saying, Rachel," Artie continues. "_Any_thing could happen."

"Did Noah make you a drink?"

Artie nods enthusiastically. "I've had two already."

"Well maybe you want to take a short hiatus before the next one? Because they seem quite strong."

"That's half the fun, though, right?"

**…**

"Berry."

"Quinn. What an unexpected surprise."

"Yeah, well, Puck insisted."

"It's not so bad."

"Yeah, summer in Lima. Woo hoo."

"Why does alcohol make you so melancholy?" Rachel asks.

"Bad associations," Quinn retorts.

"You act like that's the only time you've drank," Rachel tells her.

Quinn shoots Rachel a dirty look. Rachel ignores it. "I know it's probably going to get shot down, but if you ever want to hang out, I'd very much welcome that."

Quinn sighs. "We'll see."

"It doesn't have to just be you and me. Maybe us, Britt and San can see a movie or something."

"I said, we'll see, Berry."

"Fair enough."

**…**

Rachel is talking with Marisa, Beatrice, and Tom when she feels eyes on her. She tries to ignore it, assuming the alcohol is making her a bit paranoid. But finally she can't handle it and lets her eyes search the room. Eventually her gaze falls onto two Cheerios; the blonde licks her lips and winks. Recognizing them as the pair that propositioned her, Rachel ducks her head and strives to avoid eye contact.

Listening to Tom, Beatrice and Tom exchange stories, Rachel wonders if she should have done more theater in her high school career. With all her lessons, there never seemed to be any time. And unlike the football team, McKinley's theater department was actually pretty decent.

**…**

Without intending to, Rachel finds herself drunk. It crept up on her because all of a sudden she's leaning against a wall, clutching her cup while watching Santana and Brittany on the dance floor. And even though another threesome with Brittany never really occurred to her, it now seems to be the only thing on Rachel's mind. She tightens her grip on her cup as she tries to slow her breathing; causally glancing around shows that at least no one noticed.

"Hey girl."

"Oh, hi Mercedes. Kurt." Rachel turns slightly to face the pair. "Having a good time?"

"I must say, Rachel," Kurt starts. "You throw a decent shindig."

"Hmmm. Noah's going to be disappointed. He wanted a party."

"And what exactly qualifies this as a shindig?" Mercedes asks.

"Well the definition of a shindig is dip, not quite mellow song stylings that is usually accompanied by large amounts of alcoholic beverages."

Mercedes looks around the room. "You just made that up from looking around."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Mercedes just shakes her head and turns to Rachel. "So I assume you're in full diva mode this summer and doing your usual insane amount of classes?"

Rachel nods, knowing Mercedes is at least _trying_. "Yes. Talent must be fostered if it is to continue to grow properly."

"Summer is the time for relaxing and chilling."

"Which I already accomplished with the road trip," Rachel explains.

"Some days just watching you makes me tired," Kurt says.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Rachel replies.

"How come you're not out there dancing?" Mercedes asks.

"Santana and Brittany seem to be doing just fine on their own."

"I still don't understand those two," Kurt says. "Or you in relation."

"I'm not sure there's anything to get," Rachel replies.

"Just look at them," Kurt exclaims, sloshing a bit of his drink on his arm. "I mean, that kind of… It has to mean something."

"It speaks to a past sexual intimacy, I agree," Rachel says. "Emphasis on the word, _past_."

"Please don't say the words sexual intimacy in my presence ever again," Kurt tells her.

"Noted."

**…**

Sneaking outside for a bit of fresh air, Rachel sees Marisa stretched out on the grass, staring into the night sky.

"May I?" she asks.

"Course, Rach."

Rachel lays down next to Marisa, mimicking Marisa by putting her hands behind her head.

"Thanks for inviting me," Marisa says after a few moments of silence.

"Thank you for coming."

"I just needed a bit of air," Marisa explains. "I'm glad Tom and Beatrice came with me since I don't really know anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Marisa," Rachel says. "I didn't even think of that."

"Rachel, it's fine," Marisa interrupts. "You told me I could bring as many people as I like, so it's no big deal. But I'm the sober driver, so I needed a break from all the drunk people."

"I understand," Rachel replies. "Despite being inebriated myself, I felt the need for a break."

"You're the only teenager I know who would use the word inebriated to describe themselves."

"Intoxication is no excuse for improper speech. Though I admit it's take a bit more effort than usually to remain my usual loquacious self."

"Coulda fooled me."

They lay in silence, still staring into the sky.

"But you're having a good time?" Rachel asks, eventually breaking the silence.

"Yes, Rachel," Marisa says, a smile in her voice. "I'm having a good time."

**…**

Rachel returns inside to find Noah doing a series of shots while being encouraged by Finn, Mike and a couple of the nicer football players. Finishing, he is slapped on the back a dozen times before Finn shoves a beer in his hand. Turning, Noah spots Rachel.

"Bro!"

"Noah," she greets. "Congratulations on whatever it is you just accomplished."

"You're still too wordy to be properly smashed, Rach."

"Thank you?"

Noah grabs a few bottles, pouring them into the cup that's currently, thankfully, empty in her hand. It feels weirdly invasive.

"Drink that, bro," Noah tells her. "A shot. Double, actually."

"Noah, I don't need this."

"You do," he insists. "If you were wasted like you're supposed to be, you'd slam it, no thought."

Rachel just stares at him.

"C'mon, Rach," he says. "It's summer. Have a bit of fun."

"Fine," Rachel sighs. She quickly swallows the shot. It goes down smooth and sweet.

"That my dear," Noah says. "Was a brain destroyer. If I hear you using any more SAT words in twenty minutes, I'm going to consider you a hopeless case."

"The brain destroyer? What are you trying to accomplish? And for the last time, I will not be participating in a threesome with you."

"Do you know what Santana threatened to do to me the last time I asked?" Noah replies. "Trust me, I won't be asking that any time soon. I just want you properly bombed."

"You have very strange goals, Noah."

"I could say the same about you bro."

**…**

Rachel is washing her hands in the bathroom, when the shot hits her. Noah was right. It's like a wave crashed over her, leaving her most definitely drunk. It makes her want to continue being overly eloquent around him. There's nothing wrong with her need to remain articulate while inebriated.

Leaving the bathroom, she's ambushed and shoved back inside. The door is quickly locked and she is trapped. She's about to scream, when she recognizes her attackers. It takes her another moment to place their names; Rachel blames it on the alcohol and the fact that they're not in uniform.

"Missy. Wendy."

Wendy's grin grows. "You remember us."

"I have an excellent memory," Rachel replies. "Apparently, even when drinking."

"Or we're just _that_memorable," Missy says, shyly, easing closer to Rachel.

"After all," Wendy continues. "How many Cheerios do you have offering themselves to you?"

"Besides Lopez, of course," Missy says.

And suddenly Rachel finds herself sitting on the counter, a Cheerio half straddling each leg.

"That's true," Rachel agrees, fighting the sexual haze that seems to have fallen over the bathroom. "But that's okay since I don't want any other Cheerios."

"Really?" Missy asks. "Not even on a superficial level? I mean, we're hot."

"And bendy," Wendy adds.

"Who isn't?" Rachel scoffs.

Missy smirks as she and Wendy continue to press into Rachel. "Something to look forward to." She bites her lip before pulling Rachel down to kiss her.

It's warm and wet and in Rachel's drunken state, she lets out a soft moan that allows Missy to slide her tongue against Rachel's. She tastes like orange juice. They pull apart a few moments later to catch their breathes and Wendy quickly takes Missy's place.

Rachel lets out another moan as Wendy's tongue thoroughly explores her mouth. Wendy tastes like beer and Rachel lets herself sink into the kiss as multiple hands glide over clothed skin. When a hand slides over a covered, but erect nipple, Rachel pulls away with a gasp.

Missy tries to take Wendy's place and lean in for another taste, but Rachel pulls back.

"Hold it, right there,' Rachel gasps, trying to fight the lust filled, alcoholic daze she's in. "What do you two think you're doing?"

The girls share a look. "It seems pretty obvious to me," Missy answers.

"And judging by your reaction," Wendy continues. "I think you already figured it out."

"I blame my lack of resistance on my large alcohol intake this evening," Rachel replies.

"You want us, Rachel," Missy says. "Why deny it?"

"Simple lust isn't enough for me to cheat."

Wendy grabs Missy's hand and begins sucking on her fingers. The lewd slurping is almost too much for Rachel to take. The expression on their faces is the dirtiest thing Rachel's seen in a long time. She fights to look away; both girls' eyes are full of promise.

"No matter how amazing or incredible it'll be," Rachel finishes.

"Come on," Missy pushes. "Lopez will never know."

"I can't," Rachel protests. "And it'll be written all over my face. Santana would know."

"Are you _sure_?" Wendy asks, before grabbing Missy and pull her in for a kiss. Rachel watches in awe as they grind against each other, moaning. She loses track of hands, but judging by their noise, they've gone to unmentionable places. A few heated moments later, they pull apart.

"God, no," Rachel says, swallowing several times. "But I won't do that to Santana." Rachel slips off the counter and pushes her way to the door. She unlocks the door and turns around. "I appreciate the offer, though." And slips out, slamming the door behind her.

"That was an impressive amount of restraint," Missy says.

Wendy nods. "Are we giving up?"

"Hell, no," Missy tells her. "We've still got a whole 'nother school year to try."

"I don't see why you care so much," Wendy says, turning to the mirror to fix her very smeared lipstick.

"Anyone who has Coach Sylvester's approval has to be awesome," Missy explains. "Plus, keeping Santana Lopez's interest in bed? Fucking tiger in the sack."

"You know Lopez is going to be pissed when she finds out."

"_If_she finds out," Missy replies. "Plenty happened that Rachel won't want to admit. It's possible she won't even mention it."

"I guess."

"You worry too much," Missy tells her. "We're Cheerios. What would Santana do to us?"

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

**…**

Rachel stumbles towards the kitchen for some water. Considering what just happened, sobering up seems like a good idea. It's late enough that people seem to be done drinking, so it's thankfully quiet in the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and heads back outside for some fresh air. She hopes there's no one out there because she could use some alone time.

Luckily, the back yard is empty, so Rachel walks to the fence and sits, leaning back against it as she sips water. It's clear out and so Rachel lets her mind wander. Specifically back to the bathroom. Now, away from temptation, it's easier for Rachel to berate her lack of control.

How is she going to tell Santana? A small part of her admits she could probably never tell her and no one would be the wiser. However, most of her, wants to tell Santana. Rachel doesn't want to have such a secret to keep; especially since_they_came on to her. Sure, she might have slipped a bit, but consider, can anyone blame her?

Rachel sighs. She knows it depends on whom she asked. Noah would ask for details and say it's not her fault. Actually, so would Brittany. Santana? Jealousy is usually the first response. She's going to have a lot of explaining to do. She just hopes it can wait until the light of day when they're both sober.

**…**

Brittany is the one that finds her.

"Rachy! Here you are. We've been looking all over for you."

By now, Rachel is mostly sober and tired. And perhaps a bit melancholy. She looks up at Brittany's smiling face and tries to smile back. "I seem to have lost track of time."

"That's okay. But it's time to sleep. C'mon."

Brittany pulls her up and drags her inside.

The kitchen isn't in disarray like Rachel expected. It's obvious some cleaning has happened. How long was she sitting outside?

"We've picked up all the trash and straightened things out best we can," Brittany explains. "So now it's just bed time. Right?"

Rachel nods. "Are you staying?" She goes to the refrigerator and pulls out bottles of water for the morning.

"Yep. Puck is staying too. S isn't happy about that, but he's definitely too drunk to go home. And it's too late for _you_to drive him home, so don't even offer."

"I'm too tired to, anyway, Brittany."

And so she ends up in her bed with the three of them. Noah and Brittany are on the outside while Santana protectively spoons her.

**…**

Rachel wakes up warm and surrounded. Blinking against the sunlight because no one remembered to close the blinds, Rachel assesses her situation. She's Santana's little spoon, but it also seems that Noah is snuggling against her. Turning her head slightly, Rachel also sees that Brittany is wrapped around Santana. The four of them appear to be a pile of snugglers. It makes Rachel giggle.

It takes a great deal of effort, but Rachel finally manages to extract herself from the pile. She grabs a bottle of water and downs half it while walking towards the bathroom. Only intending to pee, she ends up taking a shower. Feeling immensely better, she heads downstairs.

In the kitchen, she brews coffee and rifles through the cupboards to see what she can make for breakfast. She finds all the ingredients for pancakes; both for her and for her non vegan cohorts. Glancing at the clock tells her they probably won't be up for a while, so she pours herself some coffee and heads to the living room. Turning on the TV, she tries to find something to watch.

**…**

Santana wakes up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. She's in between Puck and Brittany; which is no real surprise because who else but Rachel would be cooking. She pushes Puck off and reaches for a bottle of water. She downs the whole thing in about two minutes and climbs out of bed.

Downstairs she finds Rachel at the stove, humming and swaying slightly. Santana lets herself smile as she watches. She'd never say it out loud, but she'll occasionally have daydreams of her future that involve her wife Rachel cooking her breakfast.

"Hey babe," Santana says, announcing herself.

"Morning tiger," Rachel returns. "Just in time for some hot off the stove pancakes."

"Thanks." Santana walks to the coffee pot and pours herself a mug full. She then sits at the table and puts a couple of cakes on her plate.

Rachel joins her a few minutes later, setting the rest of the pancakes on the table. Santana watches Rachel sip a glass of almond milk before digging into her own vegan friendly pancakes.

"God, woman," Santana groans as she eats. "Even if you sucked in bed, I'd ask you to marry me, just for these pancakes."

"Thank you," Rachel replies, dryly.

"Lucky for me, you fuck even better than you cook."

"Again. Thank you."

Santana smirks. "You know you love it."

"Eat your pancakes, Santana."

**…**

Rachel waits until Noah and Brittany have taken off before telling Santana about her Cheerio bathroom encounter the previous night. It's not a pleasant conversation.

They're watching TV in the living room when Rachel decides to bring it up.

"San," Rachel starts. "We need to talk."

"Bout what babe?"

"Santana, this is serious." Rachel grabs the remote and mutes the TV. "I need to tell you something." Rachel pulls away from Santana; they'd been cuddling.

"All right," Santana says slowly, apprehension obvious on her face.

"As you know, last night, I consumed far more alcohol than I intended, at Noah's prompting."

Santana nods.

"I was most definitely intoxicated. So when I was propositioned in the bathroom last night, I admit that I didn't react properly."

"What. The. Fuck. Does that mean?"

"I was leaving the bathroom, but was pushed back inside and trapped. A, uh, threesome was then offered and I was kissed before I could respond."

"Oh."

"And I kissed back. Both of them. But then there were hands and I quickly put a stop to it. And then I fled the bathroom."

Santana jumps off the couch and begins pacing.

"I am so sorry. I take full responsibility. I'm not blaming the alcohol, but I do admit my inhibitions were lowered a bit. But I don't want anyone but you. It's just difficult to resist when a pretty girl kisses you."

Santana still doesn't say anything.

"That's no excuse. You're right. I'm a horrible person." Rachel feels tears forming and does her best to sniffle quietly.

Santana sighs and rejoins Rachel on the couch. "Don't cry, babe, you know I hate that." Santana pulls Rachel in for a hug. "You're not a horrible person. You're right, it is difficult to resist a kiss when you've been drinking. Brittany and I traded a few kisses last night on the dance floor."

"Brittany's different," Rachel sniffs.

Santana chuckles sardonically. "That's definitely true. But I still kissed someone who wasn't you. And you have to admit if you hadn't been propositioned last night, you'd be a little upset. Or at least hurt."

"Maybe."

"If anything, I should be pissed at whoever kissed you. I mean, _every_one knows you're mine. I mean that we're dating."

"It's fine, San," Rachel assures her. "I know what you meant. I _am_yours and vice versa. Right?"

"Right. Exactly," Santana nods.

"So we're okay?"

"We're okay, babe."

**…**

The rest of the weekend goes well. Surprisingly, Santana doesn't push Rachel to reveal who hit on her. Rachel spends half of Saturday on edge, waiting for the question, but it never comes. It's possible that Santana already knows; there were only so many people at the party and a number of them can be immediately eliminated. Rachel tries not to worry.

Instead, she tries to analyze her feelings about Santana and Brittany kissing. It certainly feeds into her almost constant underlying fear of losing Santana to Brittany. She knows it's highly improbable, but the fear is always there and may always be. What keeps it at bay is the knowledge that Brittany wouldn't do that to her and that she truly trusts Santana.

And yet, if she hadn't kissed both Missy and Wendy, Rachel can admit that she would be a little hurt. Mostly because both Santana and Rachel agreed that while it had been fun to include Brittany, the two of them is all they need.

Still, they're both young and with the addition of alcohol, they're both going to make mistakes. The important thing is that they're able to work through things. The fact that they can, makes Rachel feel proud almost; in her mind, it bodes well for future conflicts.

**…**

Tuesday, Rachel wakes up a bit excited. She knows teaching twelve and thirteen year olds dance isn't going to necessarily be easy, but she enjoys a challenge. Besides, Rachel is looking forward to spending time with Mike. Their friendship has unexpectantly grown over the last few months. And watching Mike dance, it's poetry; besides the fact of how obviously he enjoys it.

She goes to her Tuesday voice lesson and is amazing. Rachel chalks it anticipation, but eagerly accepts her teacher's praise.

At home, she has lunch, cleans a bit and then sends Santana a text, reminding her that she won't be around until evening. Rachel knows it's possible that Santana will show up anyway and will be waiting for her. She doesn't mind. She has nothing to hide and Santana will most likely just watch TV since Rachel, according to Santana, gets much better channels.

Rachel can admit that her dads subscribe to an insane amount of channels for people that are never home. She wonders if it's for her benefit; more to keep her occupied. It's a mildly depressing thought.

**…**

She and Mike are meeting thirty minutes before class to set up, get settled, etc. As is her habit, Rachel is fifteen minutes early. She does a few stretches and tries to gather the necessary supplies that they're borrowing from the community center.

Mike appears five minutes later, grinning when he sees she's already arrived. Rachel just waves.

They don't speak for about fifteen minutes as they set everything up. Not that it's much, just a table, an iPod dock with speakers and some packets of information. They clear the room of everything else, so there's plenty of room to move.

Looking around the room, Rachel considers them ready and Mike agrees.

**…**

There are eight kids in the class; four boys and four girls. Rachel surprised that there are actually four teenage boys that would willingly take a summer dance class. But they all seem eager, so she doesn't question it.

They do introductions and talk about what the class is going to be like. Then they have each kid talk about their dancing experience and what they want to learn. Wanting to accomplish something, even if it's only the first day, Mike and Rachel pair up the kids and show them some simple partner dances like the waltz, foxtrot and some ballroom dancing.

Overall, they do well, though a couple of the boys seem to have trouble with the concept of leading, but Mike patiently helps them.

They have a bit of time left over and so they have each kid demonstrate some dance that they want to show off.

No one wants to go first, so Rachel, being the consummate performer she is, volunteers to go first. She locates her tap shoes and slips them on. Taking a deep breath, she begins the routine she performed at her last recital a few years ago.

"Hey, I can do that," Kat, an energetic brunette, calls out.

"Well come on up and show us," Rachel tells her.

Kat jumps up and runs to her bag. She pulls on tap shoes and ties them before joining Rachel at the front of the room.

Rachel starts the routine over, slowly, but Kat doesn't seem to need it and so Rachel continues at regular speed. When they finish, Rachel can admit to being impressed. Kat kept up with her the whole time; everything she did was crisp and clean. Rachel can hear her tap teacher complimenting Kat in her head.

They receive a big round of applause and Rachel curtseys as Kat bows slightly.

Kat then turns and hugs Rachel. "Thanks, Rachel. That was fun."

"For me as well."

They sit down and watch the rest of the kids dance. Kat's performance seems to have taken away the nervousness as one by one the other jump up to show off what they know.

June is next and she does some simple ballet moves. Ben jumps up next and does some jazz moves that remind Rachel a lot of _West Side Story_. Sara is next and she does some jazz moves more reminiscent of Fosse. Bobby is next and he does a quick Irish step dance, blushing the whole time. Tim jumps up and motions Amy to join him. They do a Cakewalk, though it's a bit sloppy, Rachel's still impressed. Harry's last and he puts on tap shoes as well. His routine isn't as complex, but his form is good and it's obvious that he enjoys it and so when he sits down, he gets quite a bit of applause.

Looking at the time, Mike ends the class. Rachel is putting her tap shoes away when she notices Kat standing next to her.

"Hello."

"Hi Rachel."

"What can I do for you, Kat?"

"We'll be doing some tap in this class, right?"

"Of course. Mike and I would be remiss if we left tap out."

"Cool."

"You're an excellent tapper."

"Thanks. My teacher, Mr. Miller says I have a good tap eye. Oh and instincts."

"I would agree with that. You picked that up pretty quick."

"Oh, well, I've been working on something kinda similar, so I think that made it easier."

"Really? That is rather impressive."

"Thanks Rachel. I better go. My sister's probably looking for me. See you Thursday." Clenching her bag, the girl runs out, waving over her shoulder.

"Bye Kat."

"Someone's made a friend, I see," Mike says, appearing next to Rachel.

"Did you see her tap?" Rachel asks. "That's natural talent."

"Most definitely," Mike agrees. "I think this is going to be a fun group."

"I do as well."

"So what's next? You have anything you have to do?"

"Not really. Are you busy?"

"Nope."

"Want to hang out?"

"Sounds fun."

**…**

Rachel decides they should hang out after every class. Mike agrees.

"I don't mean to be pushy," Rachel says. "It's just, I figured it would be the easiest this way, since we're already together. It makes sense. And we've both said we'd like to hang out more. And though tiresome, sometimes, my summer schedule is rather packed. And it's not that I don't enjoy teaching with you, because I do. But it's just we're surrounded by eight thirteen year olds and-"

"Rachel," Mike interrupts. "It's fine. I understand. And I agree. It just makes sense."

"Oh. Good."

**…**

Thursday they dive right into the dancing. Since the class is supposed to be an intense introduction to different types of dance, Mike and Rachel continue with the partner dances. They start with the Cakewalk, followed by Salsa and the Jitterbug. Then Bobby asks about swing and they spend the rest of the class working on various dips and spins. Everyone wants to try lifts, but it's agreed it's not particularly safe.

The class runs a little long because they lose track of time. Rachel glances at the clock on the wall and sees it's 3:05. Everyone grabs a bottle of water from the cooler Rachel brought and gathers their things.

Looking around, Rachel sees a couple people waiting in the doorway. She's worried that someone else needs the space and they're using up their time. But when Tim greets one woman as mom, Rachel assumes they're there to pick up the kids.

Rachel's putting the CDs away when she hears an excited, "Rachel?"

She turns to find Kat, holding the wrist of a brunette about Rachel's age.

"Hello Kat," Rachel greets. "I hope today's class was satisfactory for you."

Kat nods, giggling. "You talk kinda weird."

"So I've been told."

"I wanted you to meet my sister. Rachel, this is Alyson."

"Rachel Berry," Rachel says holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Alyson Tyler," she replies. "And the pleasure is all mine." Alyson smirks. "My sister has been talking about how awesome you are."

"Oh. Well. Thank you." Rachel tries not to blush. "But Kat's a pretty amazing tapper. She really impressed me Tuesday."

"Seriously?" Kat asks, a grin spreading on her face. She turns to Alyson. "That is so awesome."

Rachel looks to Alyson.

"Oh, well, Kat and I heard you sing, _Don't Rain on My Parade_at sectionals the year before. Our neighbor's son goes to Haverbrook. Kat thinks you're awesome."

"Oh.

"She was pretty excited Tuesday after she found out you were one of her teachers."

"Oh. Well color me flattered."

"We should go," Alyson says. "I'm sure Rachel has things to do. And besides, I remember there being talk of ice cream after class?"

"We're going to get ice cream, Rachel," Kat informs her. "Wanna come?"

"I'm sure Rachel already has plans," Alyson protests.

"Mike and I were just going to get coffee," Rachel tells them. She turns and sees Mike gathering his things. "Hey Mike. Wanna get ice cream with Kat and her sister?"

"Only if I can get sprinkles," Mike replies.

"We don't want to intrude," Alyson says.

"You're not," Rachel assures her. "Who can say no to ice cream?"

**…**

The ice cream parlor is only five minutes away from the community center, so they decide to walk. Kat manages to ask over two dozen questions during the walk that Rachel patiently answers.

"I didn't think it was possible, Rach," Mike says when they finally arrive. "But she talks more than you do."

"Quiet you."

They get in line and are all too soon sitting at a table.

"What'd you get Rachel?" Mike asks, belatedly remembering Rachel's veganism.

"Oh, they have some vegan friendly products here," Rachel explains. "I convinced them several years ago that it would be in their best interest to stock it."

Mike shakes his head with a smile. "You are something else, Berry."

"Jealous, Chang?"

"You're vegan?" Kat asks.

Rachel nods. "I just don't feel right eating animal related products."

"Oh." Kat thinks for a moment. "I wonder if I should be vegan too?"

"Though I believe it's the right choice," Rachel says. "I recommend researching what exactly it entails before deciding. It's a commitment."

"Okay."

They chitchat as they eat. Rachel and Mike talk about glee and McKinley a bit. In turn they learn that Alyson just finished her freshman year at the University of Pittsburgh and that she went to the all girls Catholic school, St. Rose; which explains why Mike or Rachel haven't met her before.

"Poor Kat goes there next year," Alyson says. "I'm trying to convince the folks that public is better, but to no avail."

"I disagree," Rachel says. "I wouldn't recommend McKinley to anyone."

Alyson looks shocked. "What?"

"It's just… McKinley is a school with a hierarchy," Rachel tries to explain. "If you don't fit in, you're at the bottom and trust me, it's not a fun place to be."

Alyson looks to Mike. He just nods.

"What does that mean?" Kat asks.

Rachel sighs. "Teenagers aren't always the nicest to people that are different."

"Is it because you're so awesome?" Kat asks.

Mike bursts out laughing. "Rachel certainly thinks so."

Rachel blushes. "Shut up, Mike."

"I guess I'll stop bugging my folks, then," Alyson says, not knowing what else to say.

"I have no idea what private school is like," Rachel says. "I'm simply saying that McKinley will teach a person harsh lessons. Possibly before they're ready."

"Noted."

"But it's summer and I'd rather not talk about school," Rachel continues. "How about you Kat? What do you think of eighth grade?"

Part Two

It somehow becomes a regular thing. Rachel figures it's mostly Kat's doing. Plus, it's hard to say no to someone who looks up to her so unabashedly.

Mike assures her that it's okay. It usually only ends up being an hour as they consumer ice cream. And Mike agrees that Alyson is pretty cool.

"I say the next time you have a party, you invite her," he adds as they eat dinner.

Once they part company with Alyson and Kat, Mike and Rachel usually grab an early dinner. The combination of dancing and chasing after thirteen year olds is hard work. Though Rachel jokes that they're doing it backwards, having ice cream before a proper meal.

"Come on, Rach," Mike always says. "Be a rebel. Eat your dessert first."

"Actually I had another idea," Rachel tells him. "I was thinking of maybe setting her up on a blind date."

"With who?" Mike is curious since he's pretty sure Alyson is gay or at the very least, bisexual. As someone who's spend time staring at Rachel's legs under her skirt, he recognized the signs.

Rachel opens her mouth, but snaps it shut. She looks around and leans forward a bit. "If I tell you, you have to swear on your dance shoes you won't tell anyone."

"You can trust me, Rach, you know that."

"I know, Mike. But technically it's not my secret to tell. And normally I wouldn't share, but I would really welcome your opinion on compatibility."

"Um, all right. I swear."

"I was thinking of setting her up with Quinn."

"Quinn Fabray Quinn?" Mike whispers loudly and then ducks his head, hoping no one else heard him. Looking around, it seems no one is paying them any attention.

"I know. I was surprised as well. However, it explains a lot, doesn't it?"

"Only if she has a crush on you," Mike says. Noticing the look on Rachel's face, it dawns on him. "Holy shit. Quinn has a crush on you?"

"Apparently. Though, I'd like to believe she's trying to move on, since I made it clear we had no future."

"Just when I thought I'd heard it all. What with you and Santana dating. And now this." Mike smirks. "What is it about you Berry? That drives the girls crazy? I think it's the short skirts."

"Don't make me kick you under the table," Rachel mock threatens. "I like to think it's my sparkling personality."

"Ha!"

This time Rachel does kick him under the table, though gently.

"Hey watch it, Berry," Mike retorts. "Don't hurt the money maker."

Rachel starts laughing so hard, she has to set down her fork.

"Jeez, it wasn't that funny," Mike says after a minute of Rachel laughing.

"I just never expected you to say that," Rachel explains once she's done.

"Honestly, I never thought I would either. But what are you going to do?"

"Laugh at you, apparently."

"Can we just return to our regular conversation, now, please?"

"Yes. Of course." Rachel takes a sip of water. "So do you think Alyson and Quinn will like each other?"

Mike shrugs. "I have no idea. Quinn's so repressed and Alyson seems so laid back. But at least Alyson should understand Quinn's reluctance. Going to a Catholic high school and all."

"Yes, my thoughts, exactly."

"So what's next?" Mike asks.

"Well, I'm assuming Alyson's not dating anyone at the moment. At least it hasn't come up in conversation."

"How does that even come up?" Mike asks. "And how do you know she's gay? Is your gaydar going off?"

"If you were really worried about that, you would have brought it up when I first mentioned Quinn's name. So something must have tipped you off."

Mike just shrugs, deciding that now isn't the time to mention the staring.

"That's what I thought. Do you think it'd be odd if I called her at home and asked? Or would it be better to wait until we see her next Tuesday?"

"Maybe you should check with Quinn first?" Mike suggests.

"Excellent idea, Mike. I would feel bad if I asked Alyson, but couldn't convince Quinn." Rachel nods to herself. "Quinn first."

"I'm glad we got that sorted then."

**…**

Rachel waits until Sunday morning to broach the subject with Santana; mostly out of nervousness. Though they seemed to have reached a happy medium on the subject of Quinn and her feelings for Rachel, she knows Santana doesn't necessarily ever want to talk about it again.

They're currently in bed reading the New York Times and drinking coffee and Rachel figures it's now or never.

"So I think a significant amount of time has passed," Rachel announces.

"For what?" Santana asks.

"To set Quinn up on a blind date," Rachel explains.

"What? Why?"

"Because she's your best friend," Rachel replies.

"Brittany is my best friend," Santana retorts.

"Well she can easily find her own dates can't see?" Rachel smirks.

"True, but technically Quinn can too," Santana points out.

"But she won't, San," Rachel argues. "We both know it's true. She's too scared."

"I guess."

"It's just I think I found the perfect girl," Rachel explains. "She's super nice, has great taste in music and I think she'll understand Quinn's Catholic guilt. One date couldn't hurt. Could it?"

"You found someone?"

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't have someone in mind."

"I suppose not."

"I think it'd be good for her," Rachel continues. "I mean, we only have one more year left. And I know Quinn will be getting out of here as well. I just think it'd be good for her to at least have one date before she escapes Lima. Don't you?"

"Yeah…"

"It might be good for her," Rachel adds.

"Get that stick out of her ass, you mean?"

"_Santana_. That's not nice."

"I noticed you didn't disagree with me," Santana points out.

"Will you just call Quinn and ask her if she'd be up to it?"

"Seriously?"

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I don't want to bring it up to Alyson until I know Quinn will say yes. I imagine it's going to take a bit of convincing."

Santana sighs. "I must really like you, Berry."

"Thanks, tiger."

**…**

Santana waits until the afternoon to call because Quinn might be in church. They never really discuss religion and so the topic of Quinn returning to the bosom of the church has never come up.

The phone rings twice before Quinn picks up. "Hey."

"Busy?"

"Not really," Quinn replies.

"You alone?"

"I'm not phone sexing you, Lopez."

"You wish, Fabray," Santana retorts. "This just might not be a conversation you want to have around your mom."

"I'm not bailing you out of jail, either," Quinn returns. "Isn't that what girlfriends are for?"

"Believe it or not, I called with a more… magnanimous purpose."

"Oooh, magnanimous. Maybe Berry is actually rubbing off on you."

"Well, she's certainly rubbing on me plenty-ow, Rachel that actually hurt."

"Fine. I'll leave you to your conversation," Rachel says.

"Hell no," Santana says. "Hold on a sec, Q." She coves the mouthpiece and turns to Rachel. "This is your idea, so you're staying."

"If you could just refrain from the sexual comments."

"Then I wouldn't be me, babe," Santana smirks and returns to her cell. "Sorry. Rach is being annoying."

"Par for the course," Quinn quips. "So why the hell did you call me?"

"Wanted to ask you something."

"So? Let's hear it."

"How'd you like to go on a blind date?"

There's silence and then, "What am I? Some kind of fucking charity case?"

"No," Santana replies slowly. "It's just Rachel met someone she thinks you'd enjoy going out on a date with, but she doesn't want to bring it up to her until she knew you were on board."

"_Rachel_found someone?"

"Well you didn't think it was me that found you something, did you?" Santana asks.

"No. Definitely not."

"So?"

"No way. There's no way in hell I'm going out with someone _Berry_picked out for me."

"Why not?" Santana asks. "She's got good instincts about these things."

"How would you know that?"

"I don't know. I just do."

"Love has made you a complete idiot."

"I think you should do it, personally," Santana says, ignoring Quinn's last statement.

"Why? Because I'm pathetic, dateless loser?"

"_No_. Because it'd be good for you to actually go out on a date with a girl. Otherwise, you're going to leave for college in a year and still be totally repressed. And then you'll miss the chance for some hot girl on girl action in college. The phrase gay until graduation isn't just a myth. I mean, we both know you're gayer than a rainbow, so it doesn't necessarily apply to you, but it'd be good for you to, you know, figure your shit out."

"Wow. Thanks for that," Quinn retorts.

"Whatever, Fabray, once you stop and think about it, you'll realize I'm right."

Rachel snatches the phone from Santana and starts talking before Santana can stop her.

"Please consider it Quinn," Rachel says. "We can even do some sort of group activity if that helps."

"Interrupt much, Berry?"

"I mean it, Quinn," Rachel continues. "I agree with Santana. It'd be good for you. And Alyson is super nice and definitely hot."

"Should I be jealous?" Santana mumbles.

"I could have another party next Friday night and invite her. We'll just keep it small, like last time."

"Maybe."

"Just as long as you don't get drunk and act like a bitch," Santana says over Rachel's shoulder into the phone.

"San, don't help," Rachel whispers.

"Fine," Quinn agrees. "If only to end this conversation. Have a party. Invite her. I'll be there and I'll try not to be too bitchy."

"Excellent," Rachel exclaims. "You won't regret this, Quinn."

"I better not, Berry. And if this is some kind of set up…"

"I would never do that Quinn," Rachel replies. "In fact, I'm hurt that you would even suggest that."

"Right. Forgot who I was talking to. Just put Santana back on."

"Bye Quinn."

Rachel hands the phone back to Santana.

"Q."

"Your girlfriend is tiresome."

"Whatever," Santana scoffs. "She got you a date, so you shut your trap."

"Yeah. Yeah. Are we done?"

"Yes. Bye loser."

"Later bitch."

"Your friendship is one for the story books," Rachel comments once Santana's hung up.

"She agreed, didn't she?"

Rachel nods. "Now I just have to plan a party for Friday night."

"You gonna let Puck plan it again?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"You should," Santana says. "He always manages to find the best alcohol."

"Yeah that worked out well last time," Rachel mumbles.

"Just don't invite any other Cheerios besides me, Q and B and we'll be fine."

**…**

Tuesday Rachel is a bit nervous. She's not quite sure how to bring it up, especially with Kat around. Plus what if she's wrong? Did she get Quinn's hopes up for nothing?

Mike distracts Kat on the walk to the ice cream parlor and so Rachel falls into step with Alyson.

"Can I ask you something kind of personal?" Rachel asks.

"You can ask," Alyson replies.

Rachel smiles. "Would you be interested in going on a blind date? With a friend of mine? I know it's kind of lame, but I think the two of you might hit it off."

"Um, I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Rach."

"Oh, well, let me rephrase it then," Rachel says. "I'm having a party Friday night and maybe you could come and I could introduce you guys? Much less pressure that way."

"I don't know."

"If it's nervousness, I assure you, Quinn will be just as nervous."

"Rachel."

"I mean, she completely balked at the idea until I suggested a group activity," Rachel continues.

"_She_?"

"Oh my," Rachel says. "You're not gay. I'm so sorry. I just kind of got that vibe from you. So presumptuous of me. I apologize."

"Rachel, it's fine," Alyson interrupts. "You're not wrong. I was just a bit surprised because I thought you were setting me up with a guy."

"Oh. I suppose Quinn is a gender neutral name, isn't it?"

Alyson nods.

"So would you maybe want to come on Friday? It won't be huge and you can bring people if you want."

"You really think we'll hit it off?" Alyson asks skeptically.

"I do," Rachel nods. "The only thing is… well, Quinn's only recently admitted it to herself. So you would be her first date with a girl."

"Oh."

"I know how that sounds," Rachel says. "But I think it's best if some things are gotten out of the way before you even meet."

"I know how tough that is," Alyson replies. "But I don't want to be some girl's experiment."

"Oh, Quinn's gay, trust me," Rachel says. "So gay. I'm actually a little surprised it didn't occur to me sooner. Would seeing her picture help?"

"I don't know."

Rachel whips out her phone and scrolls through her contacts until she finds Quinn Fabray. She pulls up the picture that accompanies a call from Quinn. She's in her Cheerios uniform because Rachel has a difficult time picturing Quinn any other way, despite being kicked off when she was pregnant.

"Well, she definitely looks like my type," Alyson allows.

"What is that?"

"Blonde and bitchy. Especially since the bitch is almost always a cover."

"You can tell that from this picture?" Rachel questions.

"Aren't most cheerleaders?"  
>"Perhaps. I suppose my girlfriend certainly is."<p>

"Ha!" Alyson exclaims. "I knew it. "

"You could have just asked," Rachel replies. "I would have answered without hesitation."

"Rachel," Alyson says. "We've only known each other for a couple weeks. I wasn't sure. Though, now I know you're a bit forthcoming."

"A little, ha," Mike interjects.

They've reached the ice cream parlor and have caught up with Mike and Kat.

"Everyone's a critic," Rachel grumbles.

"We all good?" Mike asks.

Rachel looks to Alyson, who offers a small smile.

"Yeah. Yeah we are," Alyson answers.

"Good. Then let's get some ice cream."

**…**

"So everyone's on board?" Santana asks Rachel.

They're laying in bed, tangled up under the blanket draped over them. Rachel's thankful that she was alone when she came home because Santana jumped her the second she stepped foot inside.

Rachel nods. "I'll have another small shindig, Alyson will show up and I'll introduce her to Quinn. And then let the sparks fly."

"I'm not quite sure I understand this matchmaking you've decided to embrace."

"I'm not embracing it," Rachel protests. "I met someone who I thought is a good match for someone else and I'm introducing them. It wasn't planned, it just happened."

"Strictly speaking."

"What's wrong?"

"I just feel like I've hardly seen you," Santana says.

"We see each other every day," Rachel points out. "For many, many hours."

"Yeah, I know. I don't know. That's just the way I feel."

"If you're comparing it to last summer, then you might be correct," Rachel says. "Last summer we were almost in our own little bubble. Things are a bit different now."

"Yeah."

"What?" Rachel asks, wary of the tone of Santana's voice.

"I'm being a god damn pussy," Santana says.

"Why?"

"Whining about not seeing you enough when I already see you more than I see anyone else."

"Or," Rachel replies. "You thought this summer would be more similar to last year and you're slightly disappointed. You wonder if you didn't properly enjoy it while you had it, even though you didn't realize what you had at the time."

"Basically."

"I want the same thing, you know," Rachel reveals. "And if either of us was okay with living the rest of our lives in Lima, I'd happily spend every moment I could with you. But if I want to get out of here, I can't let up. Not yet. One more year of prep so I can be ready to take Broadway by storm."

"Yeah, I know."

"Maybe the problem is you have nothing to do right now. Once Cheerios start up again, you may feel different."

"Maybe."

"And perhaps we can convince your mom for a week long sleep over, as a special occasion."

Santana grins. "I like that line of thought."

"Good. So no more brooding?"

"No more brooding."

**…**

Thursday after parting company with Alyson and Kat, Mike and Rachel make their way back to her place to hang out. Santana is supposed to be hanging out with Brittany and Quinn, so Rachel knows she won't find Santana lounging on her couch like usual.

They order pizza and watch old movies, but it doesn't take long for them to move the coffee table and try some of their own moves.

Mike is elegance on the dance floor and Rachel is easily able to follow his lead. He starts improvising, moving from jazz to salsa to modern to tap, even though neither of them are wearing the proper shoes.

They eventually collapse onto the couch, laughing and out of breath.

"Not bad, Berry," Mike teases.

"You dancing, improving," Rachel says. "Might be the closest I've ever come to genius."

Mike chuckles self-consciously. "You're definitely exaggerating."

"I don't know," Rachel replies. "But that was pretty fucking amazing."

Having never heard Rachel swear, Mike decides to simply accept the compliment. "Thanks."

**…**

Santana shows up Friday afternoon as Rachel is getting back from her ballet lesson. Checking her watch, Rachel tries to hide her surprise since it's the earliest Santana has shown up all summer.

Santana just shrugs. "Couldn't sleep anymore."

She helps Rachel clean up a bit, not saying much. And then they spend about three hours in bed. Santana wanted to do that first, but Rachel insisted on cleaning first, knowing how easily they can get distracted.

It isn't until they're eating an early dinner later that Santana says anything.

"It's nice of you to do this for Quinn."

"She could be happy, if she'd just let herself," Rachel replies. "She just needs a little push."

"I was kinda jealous of Alyson," Santana admits.

"Why?"

"Cause. You've been talking her up the last couple weeks," Santana points out.

"I've been talking about teaching the class too," Rachel counters. "And Mike."

"The Changster doesn't worry me like some hot college chick does."

"Well, she does play soccer," Rachel says.

"It's too late now to try and make me jealous," Santana replies. "You think Q is ready?"

"I hope so," Rachel answers.

"I suppose _I'll_have to be the one that stops her from drinking too much."

Rachel sighs. "Actually, I think keeping her away from Noah might be the best solution."

"Yeah, that putz will just fuck things up."

"He does sometimes have that talent," Rachel admits.

**…**

Quinn shows up first with Brittany in tow. She tries to play it cool and the other three decide to let her. Brittany does her best to distract Quinn, by trying to get her to dance.

"It'll be good practice for later," Brittany says.

Quinn whips around and stares angrily at both Santana and Rachel. "You told her?"

"Don't look at me," Santana says.

"Nor did I," Rachel adds. "Brittany just seems to know things."

Brittany nods enthusiastically.

"Besides, it's a good thing, Q," Santana says. "She can help run interference, if necessary."

"I just want you to be happy, Quinn."

"Thanks, Britt."

**…**

Noah arrives next, bearing alcohol.

"What's up ladies?" he says, setting down a grocery bag of bottles and a twenty-four pack of beer.

"That's all you got?" Santana asks.

"Don't worry," Puck answers. "Finn's bringing more."

Quinn groans.

"You sure about that?" Santana sneers.

"Kurt knows," Puck replies. "He'll remember."

"That he will," Rachel agrees.

**…**

Once people start showing up, Quinn starts to relax a bit. She nurses the beer Puck gave her, ignoring her want to drink faster. She knows if she does either Rachel or Santana will be on her. She doesn't disagree with their logic; she can admit drunk Quinn is extra bitchy, but she could really use some liquid courage at the moment.

She also doesn't know whether to be pleased or mortified that _Rachel Berry_found her a date. A female date, no less. If she didn't already know she was in bizarro world because Santana is dating Berry, this would be the final confirmation. She supposes she shouldn't be surprised. Of course Rachel would find her a date; it's in her nature to be that nice.

Sometimes Quinn wonders if her crush on Berry is more because she wanted to absorb and imitate Rachel's niceness, since she definitely doesn't seem to have it as naturally.

Looking around from her post on the couch, Quinn notices a couple Cheerios flittering by. She vaguely remembers Santana stating no non-glee Cheerios were allowed. Quinn wonders why. When Santana eventually sees them, it could be quite entertaining.

**…**

Rachel's surprised that she actually hears her cell phone when it rings. Stepping outside, where it's a bit quieter, she answers it.

"Hey Rachel, it's Alyson."

"Oh hello. On your way over?"

"Uh, yeah, I am. I'm bringing my little brother and his girlfriend. They're juniors. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Rachel says. "I said you could bring anyone."

"Yeah, you did, I guess. Sorry."

"It's fine."

"I'm just not sure about this whole set up thing," Alyson explains.

"It's certainly understandable," Rachel agrees. "But I promise my intentions are pure."

Alyson chuckles. "I figured."

"Well, we have plenty of liquid courage available, if that helps."

Another chuckle from Alyson. "Good to know, though we are bringing some beer."

"It will be much appreciated."

"Good. Well, I guess I'll see you in a minute."

"A minute?"

"We're parked in front of your house," Alyson explains. "My brother is silently mocking me for making this call."

"Well, then I guess I'll meet you at the door."

**…**

Rachel opens the door to find a sheepish Alyson. She holds up a twelve pack of bottles and follows Rachel inside. Behind her, a shy looking blonde and a dark haired guy who is _definitely_Alyson's brother enter as well.

"Drink?"

Alyson nods and followed Rachel into the kitchen.

They put the beer in the fridge and Alyson snags one for herself and her brother, Josh. The girlfriend, Lindsey, spots some orange juice and makes herself a screwdriver.

They make idle chit chat, sipping their drinks until Josh literally pushes Alyson away.

"Go meet the girl already," he tells her. "You know you're curious. Plus, you're getting really annoying about it."

"Shut up, Josh."

"You're just mad because I'm right."

"Come on," Rachel interjects. "Why don't I introduce you to Quinn?"

Alyson nods and follows Rachel into the living room. Rachel sees Quinn on the couch, thankfully, talking to Mike. Rachel sits on the coffee table and gestures for Alyson to join her.

"Quinn. This is Alyson Tyler. Alyson. Quinn Fabray."

"Nice to meet you," Quinn says.

"You too."

"Well, Mike and I need to discuss teaching related things, so we'll just leave you." Rachel stands. "If it gets too loud in here, feel free to go outside or even upstairs for more quiet."

"_Rachel_," Quinn hisses.

"I didn't mean _that_, perv," Rachel teases. "I just meant, it quieter upstairs. And then if you're worried about people knowing before you're ready, you have privacy."

"Oh. Thanks Rachel."

"Sure. See you a bit later, Alyson?"

Alyson nods.

**…**

"So far so good," Rachel says as she and Mike walk back towards the kitchen.

"It's been thirty seconds, Rach," Mike points out.

"First impressions are important," Rachel counters. "As long as Quinn doesn't get scared and hide behind a persona."

"True."

"So how'd intros go?" Josh asks, upon spotting Rachel.

"No one ran away screaming," Rachel replies. "Seems like a good start to me."

"Definitely."

"Hey, I'm Mike."

"Josh. And this is my girlfriend, Lindsey," Josh replies. "I'm Alyson's brother."

"Huh."

"Yeah, I thought I was an odd choice to bring too," Josh says. "But Aly's weird like that."

"A lot of her friends from high school don't necessarily know," Lindsey informs them. "That might have limited her options."

"Yeah. I guess I forgot that part," Josh says. "I mean, our folks don't know yet. Just me and Kat."

"Oh. Will they not approve?" Rachel asks.

"I'm not sure," Josh admits. "But Aly's just not ready to have that conversation with them yet, you know?"

"I suppose," Rachel replies. "I too was reluctant to tell my parents."

"You were worried about coming out to your two gay dads?" Mike asks, sounding surprised.

"It's more of the who it is, not what she is," Rachel explains.

"You have two dads?" Lindsey asks.

Rachel nods, a bit apprehensive.

"Cool," Josh says.

**…**

"Do you want to head outside?" Alyson asks. "It is kinda loud in here."

Quinn looks around before nodding. She stands and Alyson follows. Once outside, Quinn leads Alyson to a quiet corner of the yard. The kitchen lights though the patio door cast the yard in half shadows. Quinn sits indian style while Alyson leans against the fence.

"So…" Quinn starts. "How'd you meet Ber-I mean, Rachel?"

"My little sister, Kat, is in that dance class she's teaching," Alyson answers.

"Oh. Cool." Quinn looks at her hands. "She want to be an actress?"

Alyson shrugs. "She just likes to dance. So you're a cheerleader?"

"Yeah. It's supposed to help me get out of here."

"I understand that," Alyson replies. "A soccer scholarship is the only reason I was able to go to Pittsburgh."

"You play soccer?" Quinn asks.

"Yeah, Attacking Midfield."

"Any good?" Quinn flirts.

Alyson grins. "The best."

"You're going to be a sophomore, right?"

"Uh huh."

"But you didn't go to McKinley."

"My parents wanted us to continue being good little Catholics," Alyson explains. "And they thought public high school would ruin us, so I went to St. Rose and my sister starts in the fall. My brother goes to St. Gregory's."

"Oh. They might not be wrong," Quinn says. "McKinley is tough."

"Yeah," Alyson says slowly. "Rachel said something similar. And Mike agreed with her."

Quinn chuckles darkly. "Berry would know."

**…**

Josh and Rachel are trying to peer into the darkness and see Quinn and Alyson.

"If they catch you, you're sister's going to kick your ass," Lindsey reminds Josh.

"Naw. She _always_says that," Josh replies. "No follow through."

"Well, Q will totally be in your face, Rach," Brittany says.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. But Santana will protect me."

"Besides," Josh interjects. "If it goes well, they might not care."

"You better pray," Lindsey says.

"I think we should no matter what," Brittany adds. "I mean, that it goes well."

"What are you weirdos looking at?" Santana asks, coming in to the kitchen for another beer.

"Quinn and her date," Brittany answers.

"They're making out already?" Santana asks. "Who let Fabray get drunk?"

"No one," Rachel replies. "They're just talking."

"Then why are we staring?"

"To make sure things are going well," Josh answers.

"Oh," Santana says. "Who the hell are you?"

"_Santana_," Rachel admonishes. "Be nice. This is Josh and Lindsey. Josh is Alyson's brother."

"Okay. Wait. She brought her brother? I would never Felix anywhere."

"Some people actually like their siblings," Rachel retorts.

"How would you know, only child?"

"Alyson's not completely out to people around here," Josh explains. "It was probably safer to bring me. You know how it is around here."

"Definitely."

"You know if they catch you guys staring," Mike says, joining the group. "Well, I don't foresee that ending well."

"Good point," Rachel agrees. She grabs Josh, knowing the others will follow. "We should go somewhere else."

"Hey. I'm not sure we know each other enough for you to do that," Josh tells her as he follows her out of the kitchen.

"Right." Rachel drops his arm. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Josh assures her. "I wasn't serious."

**…**

"My major's Chemistry," Alyson says. "But I might change it."

"Seriously?"

Alyson shrugs. "I just don't know what I want to do with my life yet. I did pretty well in Chemistry and I like it, so I figured, why not. How about you?"

"I don't know. I was thinking of being an architect."

"Nice."

It's Quinn turn to shrug. "Maybe. I like drawing, creating."

**…**

"Where's the baby mama?" Puck asks Santana. "Haven't seen her in a while."

"Probably hiding from you," Santana retorts.

"I don't know why you guys act like _I_could make you girls do anything," Puck replies. "Beings surrounded by all this girl power, I feel lucky to still have my balls."

"Barely," Brittany says, as she skips by.

Santana chuckles. "Well, at least you're not a complete idiot, Puckerman."

**…**

"So how are you spending your summer?" Quinnn asks.

"Nothing too exciting. Got my usual summer job. Spending a bit of time with the little brother and sister. I didn't think it possible, but I actually kind of missed them this past year."

"That's nice. My older sister and never quite got along. I think it was all the competing for our parents' affection."

"Yeah. That'd do it."

Quinn has been slowly inching towards Alyson. As they now sit side by side, Quinn tentatively takes Alyson's hand. Alyson, in turn, inches a bit closer to Quinn and laces their fingers together. She smiles at Quinn.

**…**

Rachel returns to the kitchen for another drink and fights the urge to check on Quinn and Alyson. She can't tell if it's her natural nosiness or paranoia in relation to Quinn's insecurities. Rachel thinks Alyson would be good for Quinn since she's so laid back and calm; though the nervousness tonight was a bit surprising. Rachel blames it on being back in Lima.

Leaving the kitchen, someone grabs her arm and drags her into the garage. She's about to scream for help because she's seen horror movies start this way and she refuses to be the first victim. She is a star, she is supposed to be one of the survivors.

The overhead light flickers on and Rachel is faced with two Cheerios in just their bra and panties. Rachel's jaw literally drops. She closes her mouth with an audible click.

"Hi," Missy greets.

Wendy just waves slyly.

Rachel tries very hard to keep her eyes above the neck.

"Isn't this… an unusual surprise?" Rachel stutters.

"We thought we'd clue you in on what you're missing," Missy informs her. "I find visual aids so helpful, don't you?"

"Normally, I'd agree, but at the moment, I'm finding… this whole situation, distracting.'

"Good," Wendy says. "We don't want _too_much thinking on your part."

"Yeah. That means, we're not doing it right."

"Oh. Well, you're doing just fine?"

Missy smirks and begins to slowly inch forward. Wendy does as well. Rachel, in turn, slowly backs away, eventually bumping into her car. Missy and Wendy continue to stalk their prey.

"Listen, it's not that I'm not flattered," Rachel tries. "Because I am. Believe me. And it's not that either of you are_un_desireable, because you both are. It's just as I stated before, I am in a committed relationship that is more important than a one night stand."

"It doesn't have to be," Wendy pipes up.

Both Rachel and Missy look at her.

Wendy blushes. "I just meant… I mean, that it doesn't have to be a one time thing. Right, Mis? It could be a more regular thing. I mean, I know I wouldn't mind. And if it's commitment you want, we can definitely do that. Right Mis?"

Missy nods immediately, smirk turning lascivious. "That's true. I mean, if what we've heard is true…"

Rachel finds herself speechless. She can only stare at them, eyes darting between Wendy's blushing smile and Missy's almost pornographic pose. She also wishes she was sober because hopefully then the suggestion of a recurring threesome wouldn't sound so appealing.

"I'm not really sure that's such a good idea," she manages finally. "For one thing, I believe in monogamy. Second, what you're proposing is… inconceivable to my brain at the moment. Third, have you met my insanely jealous girlfriend?"

"We're way too young for monogamy," Missy replies.

"Yeah," Wendy adds. "Don't you want to sow your wild oats?"

"In Lima? Ha!"

"I've wanted you since I first saw you back in September," Missy informs Rachel.

"What? Why?

"It's the plaid skirt," Wendy replies. "You're like an alluring tease."

Rachel sighs. "Why does everyone say that?"

"Because it's true," Missy replies.

"We've overheard Lopez in the locker room," Wendy adds.

"And Coach loves you," Missy throws out.

"Yes. Those are valid reasons," Rachel replies, voice full of sarcasm.

Missy turns to Wendy. "I'm starting to think we're not as hot as we think. How can she keep rejecting us?"

"I am standing right here," Rachel reminds them.

"Well, then enlighten me."

"I already told you," Rachel says. "I'm not a philander."

"A what?"

"I don't cheat."

"Well, get Lopez out here and it can be a group activity," Missy says.

"Aren't you two getting cold?"

"It's like eighty degrees outside," Wendy says.

"So that's a no?"

"You're stalling," Missy observes.

"You are correct."

"Just say yes," Missy says. "You know you want to."

Just then the garage door swings open.

"Rach, babe, you in here?" Santana's voice floats through the doorway.

"Santana!"

Santana steps into the garage and surveys the scene. She raises an eyebrow at the nearly naked Cheerios. She takes in Rachel, backed against her car, looking flushed and uncomfortable. She knows it all could be interpreted two different ways and for once, she decides to trust Rachel.

She turns to face the half-dressed Cheerios. "What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On."

"We're just having a conversation," Missy answers. "About possibilities."

"Really?"

"I'm glad you're here, actually," Missy continues.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Missy replies. "We've been discussing with Rachel the merits of dabbling."

"Dabbling?"

"Apparently I'm so sexually desireable that they are applying to become members of my harem," Rachel says, wryly.

"I'm sorry, I think my ears must have too much cotton in them," Santana says. "Could you repeat that?"

"You heard right," Wendy pipes up.

"So Marisa would be the founding member?" Santana asks.

"Who?

"_Santana_," Rachel cautions.

"I don't think I'm drunk enough for this," Santana groans.

"You're not the only one," Rachel says.

"Get dressed," Santana growls. "Or else."

Missy debates arguing, while Wendy immediately complies. Seeing Wendy mostly dressed, Missy begins to pull on her clothes as well.

"Why are you two even here?" Santana asks. "You definitely weren't invited."

"We came with Kyle and Chris," Wendy answers.

"You can always rely on the football players being idiots." Santana shakes her head. "Okay. So let's make sure we're all on the same page here. All right? Rachel? Is my girlfriend and I don't share. So if you'd like to survive the first practice in August? Back. Off. Right, Rach?"

"While I admit, I don't appreciate the surprise attacks," Rachel says. "I am very flattered by the attention."

Santana sighs. "Babe, honesty isn't helping right now."

Rachel ignores Santana and turns to face Missy and Wendy. "Truly. Thank you for the compliment, but no more. You will not succeed. All you're doing is increasing the number of laps and suicides you'll being doing later this summer."

"Lopez isn't captain."

"But she has enough power to dictate what you do," Rachel points out.

"That is true, Mis," Wendy loudly whispers.

Missy doesn't respond. Now fully dressed, she glares at Santana, but doesn't speak. Santana stares back. Missy looks away first, though. Still not speaking, she shoots Rachel a longing glance. Rachel offers a small smile. Missy then grabs Wendy's wrist and drags her back into the house. Santana and Rachel follow and watch the pair leave the house.

**…**

Santana drags Rachel back into the garage.

"I'm not having sex in my car while there are people in the house," Rachel tells her. "I understand your need to mark your territory, but can we at least go up to my room?"

Santana smirks, because any other day, Rachel'd be correct. "I just want to talk. We'll save the claiming for later."

"All right. About what?"

"You know I have to do something about this?"

"Such as?"

"I'm not sure," Santana replies. "I just wanted you to be aware."

"Well, as long as you're not going to order a hit on them."

"Not exactly. I mean, not like a mob hit or anything."

"A mob hit? As if I'm supposed to believe—"

"But some other things may occur," Santana finishes.

"I don't want you to hurt them," Rachel says. "I mean, yes, their methods are borderline harassment, but they're just young and enthusiastic."

"You never want me to do anything to your admirers," Santana protests.

"Marisa's my friend," Rachel replies. "And they're… well, they're Cheerios, besides assigning them an excessive number of suicides, what can you do to them?"

"Plenty," Santana says. "Especially during the summer."

"Now really isn't the best time to have this discussion," Rachel replies.

"Fine," Santana says. "I'll leave it. For now."

**…**

Quinn and Alyson are now sitting side by side, leaning against the fence. Alyson has Quinn's hand in her lap and Quinn is leaning her head on Alyson's shoulder, sniffling.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says. "I didn't mean to get so… I just thought you should know."

"It's okay, Quinn," Alyson assures her. "Everyone makes mistakes. And from what it sounds like, you handled the whole pregnancy as well as you could."

"Berry didn't mention anything?"

"No," Alyson replies. "I assume she wanted to respect your privacy."

"And you don't think I'm dirty or worthless because I got pregnant at sixteen?"

"Course not. I actually think you're kind of amazing," Alyson says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Alyson turns her head and with the hand that isn't holding Quinn's, gently gasps the blonde's chin and turns her slightly. Leaning in, Alyson softly kisses Quinn.

**…**

Now back inside, Rachel separates from Santana. She fights the urge to go into the kitchen and attempt to spy on Quinn and Alyson, instead going into the living room. She slips into an empty chair and just observes the room. Brittany, Mike and Lindsey are on the dance floor. Josh is quietly chatting with Artie and Tom. Noah is on the far end of the room with Kyle, Chris and Finn.

"Hey Rach."

Rachel looks up to find Marisa, seated on the arm of her chair.

"Hello. When did you slip in?"

"Not too long ago. Thanks for inviting me."

"You're my friend," Rachel replies. "You're always welcome."

"Thanks. You look… tired. Is teaching so exhausting?"

"No. That is one of more fun things I'm participating in this summer. Tonight is just not what I was expecting."

"Oh. Okay."

**…**

Quinn didn't expect Alyson to kiss her, but she considers it a pleasant surprise. She's not surprised that it's different than kissing Puck or Finn, but she is amazed how different it is from kissing Rachel. Maybe because she's currently _not_kissing the girlfriend of her best friend, but in Quinn's opinion, Alyson is a really good kisser.

**…**

Puck hasn't seen Quinn for quite a while. He wonders if she got bored or went home. Or maybe drank too much and passed out. And then Santana and Brittany dragged her upstairs to sleep it off in peace.

There's definitely _some_thing going on. Puck can feel it. His bro and her gf are being awfully secretive. Plus, there's a few people he doesn't recognize hanging around, though they seem to know Rachel. He just has this feeling that something's going on. It's making his balls twitch, which is never a good thing.

**…**

Quinn's not sure how it happened, but she's now straddling Alyson. Alyson's hands around her waist and are running up and down her back and all Quinn wants to do is be closer. She wants more even though she _knows_she's not ready.

**…**

"They've been out there for quite a while," Josh observes, suddenly appearing next to Rachel. "That's probably good, right?"

"I would think so," Rachel agrees.

"How long do you think they'll be out there?"

"I couldn't say."

"It's just that she drove," Josh continues.

"I'm sure we could figure something out if you need to go before they return," Rachel assures him.

"Yeah. I figured, but half the fun was going to be annoying her."

"There's always tomorrow," Marisa offers.

"Yeah," Josh agrees. "And if they see more of each other that will probably be enough mocking material for the rest of the summer. I gotta get it in before she goes back to school."

"A younger brother's work is never done," Marisa says.

"I take it you have one," Josh replies.

"Two unfortunately."

"Ah, yes, the ole double team, I bet."

**…**

When they finally part, Quinn has completely lost track of time, which has never happened while making out. She takes this as a good sign. Looking into Alyson's eyes, Quinn fights a blush because the way Aylson is gazing at her is both making her feel special and want to kiss again for as long as possible.

Quinn's mildly impressed with Rachel's matchmaking skills.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" Alyson asks.

"Going out with you?" Quinn replies quickly.

Alyson smiles. "Good. Pick you up at 7?"

"Perfect."

"As much as I'd love to sit here all night with you, we should probably head back in. I'm sure everyone's wondering."

"Oh god," Quinn groans, letting her head fall onto Alyson's shoulder.

"What?"

"Knowing my friends, they're probably all looking out the patio window."

Alyson stretches a bit and tries to see through the darkness. "I can't tell, though I'm not seeing any shadows or anything. So I think we might be safe. Though knowing my brother, he's probably just hiding, waiting to pounce."

"That makes me feel a bit better."

"Yeah?"

"At least we're in the same boat."

"That we are."

Quinn stands first, offering a hand to Alyson. Waiting until she's standing, Alyson takes Quinn's hand and doesn't let go as they stroll back towards the house. Once they step inside, Alyson loosens her hold because she knows Quinn's not quite ready to be outted yet. However, Quinn decides it doesn't matter at the moment, since anyone that's still around and sober won't say anything. And she's not quite ready for the haze of happiness she seems to have fallen into, to be over yet.

She's not wrong. In the living room, they find Berry, Santana, Brittany, Josh, Lindsey, Puck, Artie, that freshman who's always hanging off Berry, and a guy Quinn vaguely recognizes from Jazz band.

Upon seeing them, Josh immediately begins whistling and clapping, causing everyone else to turn their way.

"Shut up Josh."

"Hey, I'm happy for you. We're all happy for you."

"Gee thanks."

"I should probably go anyway," Quinn says.

"I'll walk you to your car?"

Quinn nods.

**…**

Watching Alyson walk Quinn out to her car, Rachel assumes things went well. She turns to Josh.

"I think it went well," Josh tells her.

Rachel nods.

"What?" Noah asks.

"Nothing," Santana snaps.

"Sheesh, Lopez. Chill the fuck out."

"You're not the boss of me, Puckerman."

"No," Noah agrees slowly. "But I'm best friends with your boss, so be nice."

"_Noah_," Rachel warns.

"What? You're saying we're not bros?"

Santana groans.

"I think that's my cue to leave," Artie says. "That cool with you, Tom? Marisa?"

Marisa nods. "Sounds good." She stands.

"I'll walk you out," Rachel says, standing.

Artie wheels himself out with Tom, Marisa and Rachel behind him.

"Thanks for inviting me," Marisa says to Rachel.

"I'm glad you had fun."

"Your parties don't suck, Rachel," Artie pipes up.

"Thank you Artie." She turns back to Marisa. "Call me. We'll hang out next week."

"Cool."

"See you guys later."

**…**

"Seriously, Lopez," Puck says as the door shuts. "What the hell is your damage?"

"I'm just not in the mood for your shit, okay, Puckerman."

Puck turns to Brittany. "Will you make her be nicer?"

"Why are you being such a girl, Pucky?" Brittany asks. "S is mean to you all the time."

"Not when she's drunk," Puck protests.

"I'm not drunk."

"Oh. Well okay then."

"You guys are really strange," Josh observes.

**…**

Quinn fully intended to give Alyson a quick peck goodbye, but it somehow morphed into another make out session that has Alyson pressing Quinn against her car. It's late and dark enough that she's not worried about being seen. She just lets herself enjoy the moment.

Eventually Quinn's sense of responsibility kicks in; she knows her mom'll start looking for her. It's one of the drawbacks of having a closer relationship with her mom.

"I better go," Quinn says, pulling away. "I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Count on it," Alyson smiles.

**…**

Quinn spends the entire drive home, smiling to herself.

**…**

Alyson strolls back into the house with a soft smile on her face. She sinks onto the couch next to Rachel and lets her head fall on her shoulder. She lets out a content sigh.

"You guys didn't have sex out there, did you?" Puck asks.

"_Noah_." Rachel looks at Brittany and nods.

The blonde is sitting closest to Puck and smacks him on the back of the head.

"Hey! That hurt."

"Good," Brittany says.

"I'm glad you had a good time, Alyson," Rachel says.

"Me too," Josh pipes up.

"Thanks bro."

"And not that this hasn't been fun, but are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Of course. Sorry." Alyson stands.

Rachel jumps up as well and hugs her. "I'm glad you guys like each other," she whispers.

"We're going out tomorrow night," Alyson whisper back.

Rachel just smiles. "See you Tuesday?" she asks, when she pulls out of the hug.

Alyson nods.

Everyone exchanges good byes and it isn't long before it's just Rachel, Santana, Brittany and Puck.

The house isn't in shambles and Rachel has tidied a bit while they were waiting for Quinn and Alyson to come in, so the four of them head upstairs and into Rachel's bedroom.

**…**

"You're pretty pleased with yourself aren't you?" Santana asks Saturday afternoon.

Puck and Brittany have taken off and Santana is drying the dishes as Rachel washes them.

"Of course," Rachel replies. "Anytime I am proven correct is a good day. Plus, you know, helping my friends."

"I just can't believe Q," Santana says. "I thought for sure she'd stay repressed until college at least."

"I had a similar observation," Rachel agrees. "At least without any pushing."

"So of course you had to push."

"Only when I found someone I believed she might like," Rachel replies. "You'll notice how I left things alone until then."

"Yeah. You did."

"What we really need to worry about is how tonight will go," Rachel continues. "A real and proper date. Do you think Quinn is ready?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should call Q later?"

"That seems like a good idea."

**…**

Quinn isn't as nervous as she thought, which she informs Santana when she calls. She appreciates the call, though, because Quinn fully expected to be having a panic attack by now.

But Quinn finds herself only suffering the usual first date butterflies that she hasn't felt in a long time. Alyson said they'd drive a bit since Lima wouldn't be the best place for a first date. Quinn can admit that information also relieves some of her tension.

When the doorbell ring, Quinn hurries down the stairs, thankful her mother is out for the evening, something about a book club, which strikes Quinn as odd since her mother isn't really a reader. But she'll take it, since it means not having to deal with questions she doesn't want to answer yet.

Instead, feeling a bit giddy, Quinn opens the door for Alyson.

**…**

"So you're really not going to bring it up?"

Santana is channel surfing while Rachel is writing something in her prank notebook as the pair cuddle on Rachel's bed.

"Bring up what?"

"Missy and Wendy."

"What's there to bring up?" Santana asks.

"So you're not pissed?"

"Of course I'm pissed," Santana growls. "But talking to you about it isn't going to help. You're not the problem. It's those… fucking sluts."

"They are rather persistent," Rachel agrees. "I was worried that you were secretly mad at me."

"No. If I was angry, I'd let you know," Santana informs her. "My issue now, is how to deal with them. That is, if you're going to let me."

"I suppose it depends on what their next move is. If they back off, there's nothing that needs to be done."

"Definitely. But I doubt that's what is going to happen."

"No more parties," Rachel says.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't go off by yourself is all."

"Both times I was going to the bathroom," Rachel retorts. "And that is the one place you're not coming with, well at least when I'm, you know. I don't think we're ready for _that_step yet."

"No, we're not." Santana hits mute on the TV. "How about a chastity belt?" she jokes.

"That still doesn't stop them from stripping in front of me," Rachel points out. "And there's still plenty I could do that would constitute cheating. Besides the fact, that I'm not the problem. If you want to put chastity belts on them, that would be a different story."

"Yeah. Yeah. You're right."

"So what? We wait?"

"Maybe. Though if it gets out of hand, we might have to go to Coach Sylvester."

"I'd rather save that for a last resort."

"Me too," Santana agrees.

**…**

"I had a really good time," Quinn says bashfully.

They're in Alyson's car, parking in Quinn's driveway.

"Me too."

"You wanna come in?" Quinn asks, not ready for the date to be over. "My mom's probably asleep. We could watch TV or something?"

"I'd love to," Alyson replies. "But my curfew is midnight and well, it's already 11:30."

"It doesn't feel like it's that late," Quinn says.

"I know. The night just flew by."

"Are you busy tomorrow?" Quinn asks, shyly.

"Maybe we could do lunch? Like one?"

"I'd like that."

**…**

For some reason Felix is mercilessly teasing Santana at Sunday dinner. Tomás, Clara and Rachel simply watch, amused as the two bicker. Though she knows her girlfriend is thoroughly annoyed, Rachel finds the entire scene endearing. She assumes it's because she doesn't have any siblings and so everything is a bit of a novelty.

"It was much worse when they were growing up," Tomás says quietly, leaning Rachel's way. "Being older, Felix was able to trick Santana into doing a lot of stupid things. Until Santana was about eight and refused to believe _any_thing Felix said."

"I've often wondered if I've missed out on something because I'm an only child," Rachel comments.

"I'm not sure missed out is the way to look at it," Tomás replies.

"I have no complaints in that arena," Rachel assures him. "I'm simply curious. Especially watching other sets of siblings interact."

"You sound a bit like an anthropologist."

"I suppose I do," Rachel says. "As an actress, observing and studying human behavior seems like the best way for me to improve."

Tomás looks at her affectionally. "You really are bit of an odd duck, Rachel Berry."

**…**

When Santana opens Rachel's door Monday afternoon to a very happy looking Quinn Fabray, she has to pinch herself.

"Hey."

"Is Rachel here?" Quinn asks.

"Yeah. This is her house, after all."

Nodding, Quinn breezes by Santana and head towards the kitchen where various baking sounds can be heard.

Quinn sits quietly at the table and watches Rachel make banana bread.

The carrot cake was a success and so when Rachel found the recipe for banana bread, she knew it was going to be her next baking project.

"Who was at the door?" Rachel asks Santana.

"I don't know. It looks like Q," Santana says, pointing towards the table. "But she's acting all weird."

"You act as if you've never seen Quinn happy before Santana."

"Fewer times than you would think."

"Shut up S," Quinn says. "I'm not going to let your surliness ruin my good mood. I just came over to thank Rachel."

"Oh? I take it your date went well?"

"It did," Quinn nods. "We went out again yesterday."

"Yeah?" Santana asks.

"She took me on a picnic." Quinn can't seem to keep the grin off her face.

"I'm pleased my instincts about Alyson were correct," Rachel says. "When are you seeing her again?"

"Tomorrow night," Quinn replies. "She works during the day and tonight is mother/daughter bonding night for me, so we're going to do something after she and Kat get back from ice cream with you and Mike."

"I'm glad," Rachel says. "Say something nice, San."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm happy for you, Q. Really. You gonna do the deed tomorrow night? Three date rule."

"_Santana_."

"Shut up Lopez," Quinn grumbles. "We all know I'm not ready for _that_."

"What if your girl loses interest?" Santana teases.

"She's not _my_girl," Quinn snaps.

"_Yet_. It won't be too long before she's under the Fabray spell. Everyone seems to fall under it."

"Well not everyone," Quinn retorts, looking at Rachel.

"We're venturing into dangerous territory," Rachel interrupts. "Leave Quinn alone, tiger. Let her enjoy her happiness."

"Yeah, S. Listen to your boss and let me enjoy my happiness."

"Quinn that isn't helping either," Rachel says.

Santana just chuckles.

**…**

Tuesday, Kat bounces into the room a bit early.

"Hi Rachel!"

"Hello Kat. How are you today?"

Kat doesn't answer, just engulfs Rachel in a tight hug. After her getting over her surprise, Rachel hugs back.

"Is it National Hug Day already?" Mike asks, walking into the room. "Because if so, I'm way behind."

"No," Kat says, pulling out of the hug. "I just wanted to thank Rachel."

"For what?"

"Alyson is in like this really good mood. And she says it's cause you intro-ed her to a really great girl."

"I'm glad Alyson likes Quinn."

"It's just Josh and I were worried that being home for the summer would bring out the self hatred. Aly has a lot of trouble being Catholic and gay."

"Quinn does too."

"And going to a Catholic high school really didn't help," Kat adds. "But now she has a girl to distract her and keep her busy for the summer."

"What happens when Alyson goes back to school in the fall?" Mike asks.

"I don't know," Kat says. "That's a good question."

"The thought occurred to me as well," Rachel agrees. "Hopefully things can be worked out."

"We're still getting ice cream, right?" Kat asks.

Rachel looks at Mike who nods. "Of course. Unless you or Alyson doesn't want to."

"Oh good. Because I do. I bet Aly will too."

The rest of the kids begin entering and Kat goes to greet her friends as Rachel and Mike finish setting up.

**…**

"So how much is Josh mocking you?" Rachel asks Alyson as they sit.

"A lot," Alyson admits. "But he doesn't do it in front of the folks, so that's cool, at least."

"He seems like a good guy," Mike throws out. "We talked a lot Friday night."

"Yeah, he said he had a good time," Alyson says.

"So I hear you're going out again tonight," Rachel says.

"Yeah," Alyson grins. "Just a movie, but it'll still be fun."

"Well if you ever wanna double with me and San, you're welcome to," Rachel says. "We pretty much have the house to ourselves. My dads work a lot."

Mike bursts out laughing.

Kat, Alyson and Rachel all turn to stare at him.

"Sorry. I was just picturing it."

"What's so funny about that?" Alyson asks.

Mike tries to figure out how to articulate why he laughed so loudly. "It's just Quinn and Santana are so…"

"They have a complex relationship," Rachel finishes.

"Oh."

"It's not a bad thing. It's just their cheerleading coach is a little intense," Rachel explains. "Add to that, the way our school is and well, it's complicated."

"All right."

"You guys make high school sound problematic," Kat observes.

"It can be," Rachel says.

"It'd be cool if I could go to McKinley with you, Rach."

"This is my last year at McKinley," Rachel tells Kat. "So the timing just doesn't work out it seems."

"Oh."

"It's less exciting than you think," Mike whispers loudly to Kat.

"Watch it, you," Rachel smiles, lightly elbowing Mike.

Kat giggles.

**…**

"So how do you think the third date is going?" Rachel asks Santana that evening.

"I should be completely insulted that you brought that up now."

"What? Why?"

"We're naked, and I just fucked you speechless and the second thing out of your mouth is to ask about Quinn?"

"And Alyson," Rachel defends. "Though that's not really helping my argument."

"Nope."

"I guess my brain just went to your whole third date rule," Rachel explains. "I wonder when Quinn'll be ready for that."

Santana groans.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"She's going to come to me eventually isn't she?"

"Well she's certainly not going to come to me. What about Britt?"

"Maybe. You know how B is. Although, she'd probably be serious for Quinn's sake. I just don't know if Q knows that."

"Well, maybe you'll luck out and the sex'll just happen."

"This is Quinn we're talking about."

"Hope springs eternal," Rachel says.

"Weirdo," Santana replies, fondly.


	28. Challenges

**Chapter Title:** Challenges  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Quinn, Mike, Brittany, Puck, Alyson Tyler, Sue, Kat Tyler, Missy Watters, Wendy Kort, Clara Lopez, Artie, Becky, other OCs  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel and Puck make a wager that coincidently allows Sue to test her Cheerios.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~16,800  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Previous stories in this series  
><strong>AN:** If you want to know what a Halifax Gibbet looks like: http:/slacker-d . livejournal . com/35034 . html

* * *

><p>The last dance class is a showcase. The kids each pick a dance they've learned and perform.<p>

Mike and Rachel arrive early to set up some chairs and a small video camera that Mike borrowed from his parents. He and Rachel will burn everyone a DVD of their performance.

**…**

Rachel is slightly amused to see Quinn in the audience, seated next to Alyson. She looks a bit self-couscous, especially when she catches Rachel's gaze. Rachel waves and Quinn half-heartedly waves back.

Rachel points Quinn out to Mike who also smiles and waves. Alyson offers a small wave in return while Quinn just nods. Rachel just barely holds back a chuckle as the music starts and Harry steps onto the "stage".

**…**

After talking to the parents and kids, Rachel turns to find Kat, Alyson, and Quinn sitting and waiting.

"We're still going for ice cream, right?" Kat asks

"Of course," Rachel replies. She turns to Alyson. "Kid was pretty good, huh?"

"Definitely," Alyson agrees. "Kat's a natural."

Once everything is cleaned and packed up, Kat, Alyson, Quinn, Rachel and Mike begin the short walk to the ice cream parlor.

"I'm gonna miss seeing you every week," Kat tells Rachel.

"Me too," Rachel agrees.

"You guys should hang out," Mike interjects.

Rachel mulls it over for a moment. "As long as it's okay with your parents."

"Cool," Kat exclaims. "They will be. Aly will help, right?"

"You know it, kid."

"Yay."

**…**

Friday, Mike is sitting on Rachel's doorstep when she returns from her voice lesson.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really it was that late."

"Nah," Mike assures her. "I'm early."

"Oh good."

He follows her inside and goes into the kitchen to set up. When Rachel returns a moment later, she grabs two bottles of water from the fridge before joining Mike at the kitchen table.

Mike has his laptop out and connected to the video camera. Rachel sets down a stack of DVD-Rs. He accepts the water with a smile.

They spend the afternoon burning each performance onto a disc before burning themselves each a copy of the entire class. Mike ends up staying for dinner, which mostly consists of leftovers.

When Puck shows up later, they're packing and labeling each DVD.

"Chang. Bro," Puck greets.

"Hey Puck."

Hello Noah," Rachel replies. "Mike will be joining us this evening."

"Oh." Head scratch. "Cool." Another head scratch. "So what are we doing?"

**…**

They end up in the backyard throwing knives.

When Mike learns that Rachel is a champion knife thrower, his response is simply, "Cool."

Rachel gives a shirt how-to; partly because Mike asks and partly to stop Noah from complaining.

Mike tries a couple times, hitting the target, but never really near the bulls eye.

Puck takes the whole thing a lot more seriously and really works on it. In fact, Mike and Rachel end up sitting in the grass talking while Puck tries again and again.

**…**

When Puck finally gets too frustrated, he slumps to the ground next to Rachel.

"You're not going to get it in one night, Noah," Rachel tells him.

"I don't see why not," Puck grouses. "I have good hand eye coordination and a good throwing arm. What more do you need?"

"Time," Mike says. "Practice."

"Thank, Mikey."

"He's right, Noah," Rachel says. "Besides, I don't understand why you're so intent on becoming proficient in one night."

"Because it's awesome and it'd be cool to be able to say I can," Puck answers.

"Well, sure," Mike says. "That makes sense."

"Whatever, you guys aren't any help," Puck says.

They sit like that in silence for a moment. If Rachel didn't know better, she'd think Noah has fallen asleep.

"Listen, I know you guys are like busy or whatever, but have you seen Q lately?"

"Uh, I guess," Rachel replies, hesitantly. "Why?"

"Is she dating that Alyson girl? The one that brought her bother to your little shindig?" Puck presses.

"Again. Why?"

"She is," Puck exclaims. "Why are you guys being all secretive? I can be sensitive; especially for my baby mama."

"It's not that, Noah," Rachel says. "I think Quinn's just, you know, scared."

"And what? She thinks I'm gonna give her shit? That's Lopez's job."

"Noah, you know how difficult it is for Quinn," Rachel replies. "Sexuality wasn't really properly dealt with in her home. It took a lot of effort to even convince her to give Alyson a chance."

"Yeah, Puck," Mike says. "You know how Quinn is. If she's too uncomfortable, she'll shut down and lash out. I think Rach was just worried that people will start… judging before she's had time to feel comfortable in her new skin."

"Yes, exactly," Rachel agrees.

"You guys are making me sound like an insensitive prick," Puck complains. "And yeah, maybe I am _sometimes_, but not all the time. I mean, I'm cool about you and S, right, Rach?"

"Yes," Rachel replies. "But only because you had a new mental image for your masturbatory fantasies. It was only after you decided I was bro worthy that you actually showed your sweet side."

"That's not true," Puck protests. "I was kinda sweet when we were dating."

"You had your moments."

"Rachel's just saying Quinn needs a little more time," Mike interjects.

"Fine. Whatever."

**…**

Saturday morning, Santana is surprised to find Rachel in bed alone. Puck spending the night is a common occurrence.

"You're early," Rachel greets, looking up from the book she's reading.

"Got restless," Santana replies. She kicks off her sandals and climbs in bed with Rachel. "So I have some exciting news."

"Oh?"

"Since it's our one year anniversary next weekend, my mom said I can spend the week here."

"Are you serious?"

"I am," Santana nods.

"How did you manage that?"

"Appealing to my mom's romantic side," Santana replies. "And reminding her about how busy I'm going to be when Cheerios starts up in ten days."

"Huh."

"Plus, she really hates the idea of you being all alone in this big ole house," Santana adds.

"Awwwww."

"They so like you better," Santana grumbles.

"Don't worry," Rachel says. "You're still my favorite Lopez."

"I better be."

**…**

Because her mom has a date, Quinn invites Alyson over to watch a movie. Quinn hopes Alyson doesn't think that means sex, because while they've moved beyond _just_ kissing, Quinn knows she's not ready for _that_.

They watch _Vertigo_ and _Rear Window _because Alyson is a bit Hitchcock fan and she can't believe that Quinn hasn't seen either.

Actually wanting to watch the movie, they end up snuggled under a blanket, instead of making out like they did the last time they tried to watch a movie.

"So what'd you think?" Alyson asks as she puts the DVDs back in the case.

"Creepy," Quinn answers. "Suspenseful."

"But you liked 'em?"

"Yeah. Thanks for bringing them over," Quinn replies. "We'll have to watch more. Like all the ones you own."

"You shouldn't have said that," Alyson tells her. "Cause I have twenty-nine."

"But that's not all of them?"

Alyson shakes her head. "He made almost sixty."

"Is it weird that I _really_like that you love Hitchcock, but hate horror movies?"

"Hitchcock is suspense and drama. Most horror movies nowadays are just gore and making the audience jump." Alyson smirks. "And it's not weird."

"Good," Quinn says, leaning in for a kiss.

**…**

Sunday night dinner at the Lopezs' is full of chatter, laughter and people; once again a complete contrast to the atmosphere at Rachel's house. She wonders if it's partly the reason Santana enjoys spending time there instead of at her own home. Both Clara and Tomás are concerned and interested and Rachel knows for most teenagers, this is annoying.

It probably doesn't help that Felix is there being his usual big brother self. Not to mention, Tomás seems to really enjoy overemphasizing that he likes Rachel more than Santana. Rachel wonders if her girlfriend realizes this, because it seems obvious to her that he's teasing Santana.

Rachel's tempted to bring up the fact that Santana will be spending the week with her, because she's honestly curious, but she doesn't want to jinx it. She knows once Cheerios start up, Santana will be exhausted and busy. It's almost like school starts up a month earlier because Coach Sylvester pushes them so hard.

Instead they finish dinner and help clean up. Then Santana disappears upstairs for a few moments. Rachel assumes to pack a bag.

"Rachel, dear, can I talk to you a moment?"

"Of course, Clara."

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Rachel can't even guess what Santana's mom wants to talk about.

"I wanted to talk about this upcoming week with you."

Rachel wonders if just thinking about asking was enough to jinx herself.

"All right."

"Despite agreeing to it, I still have some concerns," Clara starts.

"Understandable."

"I've agreed to quite a few things that I normally wouldn't," Clara continues. "And I think I've finally realized it's more a reflection about how I feel about _you_and Santana more than anything else."

"Okay."

"So… I can't believe I'm saying this," Clara says. "But I need your help."

"With?"

"I need you to help me make sure Santana isn't asking for anything too crazy," Clara replies after a moment. "Or if she does and I agree, maybe you could remind her that she's asked for something insane."

"So you're asking me to help you say no?" Rachel asks.

"Basically."

"Are you uncomfortable with Santana spending the week with me?" Rachel asks.

"I am and I'm not," Clara replies. "I trust you, dear. And I know that I'm not _just_giving her permission to have sex. I realize it's more than that for both of you."

"It really is our anniversary," Rachel offers. "If that helps."

"It does a bit," Clara admits. "And ultimately, I trust you to keep Santana out of too much trouble. However, we both know that you're not completely free of _her_influence."

"I can admit, she's gotten me to agree to things I normally wouldn't," Rachel agrees. "But I don't think San would ever suggest anything _too_dangerous."

"I suppose so," Clara concedes.

"However, that being said," Rachel continues. "I will keep it in mind. Though I think you might be giving me a little too much credit."

"Or you're not giving yourself enough," Clara counters.

"You ready to go, babe?"

Rachel nods.

"Thank you dear," Clara says, pulling Rachel into a hug.

"You're welcome, Clara," Rachel replies.

The moment the hugs over, Santana drags Rachel out of the house and to her car.

"See," Santana says as Rachel's pulling out of the driveway. "You are _so_their favorite."

Rachel just smirks.

**…**

Tuesday, Mike shows up after lunch.

"Missed me, did you?" Rachel asks, smiling. She steps aside and lets him in.

Mike shrugs. "I've got this block of time open. Figured I might as well fill it somehow. Besides, I hate thinking of you alone in this house all the time."

"Well, San's spending the week, so at least I'm not alone at the moment."

"How'd she swing that?" Mike asks. "I mean, her parents actually give a crap, right?"

"They do," Rachel nods. "I'm still not quite sure, actually. San claims it's because they love me more than her."

Mike chuckles.

**…**

Thankfully, Santana doesn't mind the intrusion of Mike. They hang out, watching TV, chatting and making snide comments. It's a nice afternoon.

**…**

Friday night, Brittany drags Santana out of the house as Puck is arriving.

"I still can't believe Lopez's parents let her stay here all week," Puck says, settling onto the couch.

"Life is strange that way," Rachel agrees.

"So anyone else joining us this evening?" Puck asks.

"No," Rachel replies. "Is this about last week?"

"You invited Chang?"

"Mike's a good guy and a good friend-"

"And I'm not?" Puck questions.

"That's not what I'm saying, Noah. I wasn't going to kick him out."

"Shoulda," Puck replies. "He would have understood."

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But I didn't want to."

"So what are we doing tonight then?"

"I thought you said we were just going to hang and drink because it's so hot outside," Rachel replies.

"Yeah. I did say that. Just wondering if you came up with anything else."

"I didn't think I needed to."

"Okay. I'm getting a beer."

**…**

Rachel didn't realize how upset Noah is about her inviting Mike to hang out on bro night the week before, but she supposes she should have known. Noah is oddly possessive of her friendship. Used to it with Santana, Rachel supposes she didn't give it too much thought. Though, it could also be because Santana has gotten a lot better telling Rachel when she feels ignored.

Though just because he's annoyed, that doesn't mean he has to channel surf for the last hour and half. Rachel actually feels a bit dizzy.

Rachel snatches the remote away.

"_Hey_."

"Mine, now," Rachel tells him. She puts it on the History Channel.

"Damnit, bro."

Rachel's cell rings. "I'm going to answer this in the kitchen," she tells him. "And I'm taking the remote with me."

Puck just groans.

In the relative quiet of the kitchen, Rachel answers her phone.

"Hello?"

"Rachel? It's Kat."

"Hey kid," Rachel replies. "What's up?"

"Aly gave me your number," Kat says. "I hope that's okay."

"Course it is. Did you talk to your parents?"

"I did. They said it'd be fine cause Aly vouched for you," Kat replies.

"Good. Ummm… Let me go upstairs and look at my calendar, okay?"

"Okay."

"So what should we do?" Rachel asks as she climbs the stairs to her room.

"Dunno. Something fun?"

Rachel laughs. "Ahhh, I wanted to do something boring."

"Ha ha."

"What about Wednesday? We can have lunch and go to the zoo."

"The zoo?"

"I don't know. It could be fun," Rachel says.

"Okay. Sounds good."

"All right. I'll pick you up around eleven Wednesday?"

"Sure, Rachel," Kat replies. "I'll text you our address. See you Wednesday."

"See you Wednesday, kid."

**…**

Back in the living room, Rachel finds Puck captivated by the TV. For a moment, she thinks he somehow managed to change the channel, but when she's on the couch next to him, she sees the little History Channel logo on the screen.

"What? Are they doing a special about the history of porn?" Rachel asks.

"Better," Puck replies. "They're rebuilding historical weapons and whatever. Like the Rack. And then they're testing it."

"Oh. That does sound kind of cool."

**…**

Apparently it's a marathon because they've already watched five hours and the sixth has just started. Rachel wonders how many there were total.

"I don't see why you're so fascinated," Rachel says. "I could totally build some of this stuff."

"You're drunk," Puck retorts. "What do you know?"

"I've only had _one_drink," Rachel points out.

"You've almost finished your second," Puck tells her. "And you're a light weight."

"Hmph. Still, I'm sure I could."

"I'll take that bet," Puck says.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll take that bet," Puck repeats. "I bet you can't build a…"

"Halifax Gibbet," Rachel supplies.

"Fine. A Halifax Gibbet by the end of the summer."

"You're on. Usual stakes?"

"Works for me."

Puck clicks his can of beer against Rachel's glass and they drink on it.

**…**

It's just after midnight when Santana lets herself into Rachel's house. It's quiet, so she assumes Rachel and Puck have already gone to bed. Santana hopes she won't have to fight too hard to cuddle with her girlfriend.

When she reaches Rachel's room, she's surprised to find the light on and Rachel reading in bed.

"Hey tiger," Rachel says looking up.

"Where's Puckerman?"

"Oh, he's kind of mad at me, so he went home."

"And you let him?" Santana asks. "Wasn't he drunk?

"Just tipsy," Rachel replies. "But I can only argue with him for so long. He promised to drive five miles below the speed limit. And his house is only like ten minutes away."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'll admit I'm a bit worried," Rachel says, setting down her book. "But he wanted to leave. And I told him to let me know that he got home safe, but I think he forgot."

"I'm sure he's fine, Rach," Santana tells her as she strips. "He's driven after having a few more times than he should have."

"That actually doesn't make me feel better, San."

"Well, I'm personally glad I get you all to myself tonight," Santana says.

The smile Rachel returns is small, but Santana knows it's just because she's worried about Puck.

"We'll just sleep and in the morning, we'll call and wake his lazy ass up, okay?"

Rachel nods.

**…**

In the morning, Rachel calls Puck's cell until he picks up.

"_What_?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're alive, Noah," Rachel says. "You were supposed to call me when you got home."

"Yeah. Sorry. I pretty much just passed out the minute I saw my bed."

"Oh. Well I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks. Bye."

**…**

They exchange gifts in the evening, sitting on Rachel's bed.

"Oh my god, Santana," Rachel exclaims. "Where did you find these?"

"I have my ways," Santana smiles.

Rachel can only stare at the record on her lap. Not only is it Barbra Streisand's first album, as well as her first live concert, they're both autographed.

"This is so incredible," Rachel says. "I can't believe you found this." She then picks up the envelope that was attached to the wrapping paper. "What's this?"

"Just open it."

Rachel does and is surprised to find song lyrics. "What is this?"

"Well, I know you want to do a duet in glee, but are afraid I'll say no. Right?"

Rachel looks embarrassed, but nods.

"So this is the song you and I are going to sing in glee once school starts up."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, babe. Your part is highlighted."

Rachel lets out a squeal and tackles Santana in a hug, knocking her onto her back. Rachel considers this convenient as she begins kissing her girlfriend.

When they come up for air, Santana stays stretched out as Rachel sits up, still straddling Santana.

Rachel reaches over and grabs her gift, handing it to Santana.

"The first part of your gift was the car crushing and the whole thing," Rachel explains.

"Awww, babe."

"I wanted it to be just the two of us, but I knew it wouldn't be the safest and that your parents would more likely agree if we had Noah with. And I didn't want just Noah, because he'd feel like a third wheel and so that's why Britt came too. I know that-"

Santana cuts her off with a kiss. Stroking Rachel's cheek as she pulls away slowly, Santana just smiles. "Don't worry, Rach. I understand."

"Good."

Santana opens the envelope that Rachel handed her. The first piece of paper she pulls out says, "Rachel and Santana will pull three pranks together, just the two of them senior year." Santana smirks. The second piece of paper says, "Coach Sylvester owes me one favor. If you ever feel you need it, it's yours. Love, Rachel"

"Are you serious?" Santana asks.

"Dead serious," Rachel replies.

"Wow."

The third piece of paper reads, "Santana gets to win one argument with her girlfriend, even if she's wrong. (Unless it's going to result in something dangerous.)" The disclaimer causes Santana to chuckle.

"I know it's kind of cheesy," Rachel says. "But that trip totally wiped me out and even though you totally deserve-"

Santana cuts her off with another kiss.

"Don't be ridiculous," Santana says. "Besides the fact that a favor from Coach is worth more than gold, you know I don't care about that. Furthermore, crushing a car in a tank was pretty fucking awesome."

Rachel smiles shyly. "It must have been if you're cursing."

"It has to be done," Santana agrees. "Besides, you know what I was really hoping for?"

"What's that?" Rachel asks.

"That the rest of the night is naked time."

Rachel grabs all the presents and puts them on her desk before she begins stripping.

"Best anniversary ever," Santana says as her shirt joins Rachel's on the floor.

**…**

Rachel practically has to drag Santana to her house for Sunday night dinner.

"I don't want this week to be over," Santana whines. "Plus Cheerios starts tomorrow."

"You could just quit."

"Are you kidding? That's my ticket out of her," Santana replies.

"I know."

"Then why did you suggest it?"

Rachel shrugs as she drives. "It seemed like the thing to say."

**…**

Rachel spends the night at Santana's, though the door is once again, to be kept open. Neither girl really minds, though Santana still protests every time her mother says it. Rachel assumes it's what's expected. Or maybe Santana doesn't want to know she's a total sap who just wants to sleep wrapped around her girlfriend.

**…**

The sun is just peeking out as Rachel and Santana drive to the first Cheerios practice. Used to being up this early, it just makes sense for Rachel to tag along.

So while Santana joins Quinn and Coach Sylvester on the field, Rachel sits on the bleachers and watches the others stagger onto the field.

**…**

When Santana spots Wendy Kory and Missy Watters, she grabs her bag and jogs over to them.

"Watters. Kory."

"Lopez," Missy smirks.

"I've been talking to Coach," Santana continues. "And she agrees with me that you guys need more conditioning."

"Oh?"

"She did," Santana nods. "So you guys have to wear these on your ankles and wrists for all the practices this month." Santana pulls ankle and wrist weights out of her bag.

"You can't be serious," Wendy protests.

"I am," Santana smirks. She holds them out.

Missy looks over towards Coach Sylvester, who appears to be in the middle of berating a sophomore about being on time. She sighs and accepts the weights from Santana.

"Have fun," Santana says, walking away as they strap the weights on.

**…**

Rachel has pulled out her notebook as the Cheerios stretch. She hasn't really had time to think about the wager she made with Noah. She's confident she can do it because she's Rachel Berry, but she probably shouldn't make bets when she's tipsy.

Pulling out her phone, she begins search the internet for any information on the Halifax Gibbet. There isn't much. Still, she writes down everything she _can_find.

**…**

Missy has to admit, she didn't expect Lopez to be so subtle. That seems more like a Rachel thing. Lopez is all fire and bluster right in your face; there's no escaping her. Though, if she really does have Coach's approval, then there's really no way to escape her or this punishment.

**…**

Working with what little info she has, Rachel begins sketching out a plan. Once she has the dimensions figured out, she begins making a list of material she'd need.

Intend on her notebook, she almost misses the shadow cast over her shoulder.

"Your presence puzzles me, Berry," Coach Sylvester says.

"Oh. Hello Coach," Rachel greets. "I'm simply waiting for Santana."

"I figured as much," Coach Sylvester replies. "However, I'm not sure I understand why."

Rachel half shrugs as she continues sketching. "I just wanted to."

"You two aren't going to be pathetic saps in love this year, are you?" Coach Sylvester asks.

"Well, maybe not pathetic," Rachel replies.

"As long as you don't take away my entertainment this year," Coach Sylvester says. "And what could possibly be more important than talking to me?"

"Oh." Rachel fights a blush. "I sort of made a bet with Noah that I could build a Halifax Gibbet."

"Really?" Coach Sylvester asks slowly. "I'd ask how that happen, but I don't really care."

"And while it's a daunting task," Rachel continues. "I have no intention of losing."

"I'm sure you don't," Coach Sylvester smiles. "And what are you going to do with your creation once you're done with it?"

"Put it up in the backyard, I suppose."

"And it'll be a working one, correct?"

"Of course," Rachel replies. "If it doesn't work properly, I'll lose."

"Well, when do you think you'll be finished with it?"

"Well, I just started planning, but hopefully in a couple of weeks."

"Excellent," Coach Sylvester says. "I don't suppose you'd let me borrow it?"

"For?"

"I want to see what these dismal excuse for Cheerios are capable of."

"That sounds a bit ominous, Coach," Rachel says.

"I know," Coach Sylvester smirks.

**…**

Rachel watches as the Cheerios file, exhaustedly into the locker room to clean up. Considering everything she just witnessed, she's surprised they're all still standing. She has a vigorous workout schedule and even she's exhausted from watching the first practice.

"Heads up!" Coach Sylvester yells in her megaphone as they stagger off the field. "You're all acting as if I was tough on you!"

Everyone still on the field, holds their head up and tries not to look too tired. Rachel just shakes her head.

Rachel, meanwhile, has a complete list of materials, where she can get them and the order in which she's going to do things. She feels ready.

"_Hi Rachel_."

Rachel looks up to see an exhausted looking, but showered Missy and Wendy.

"Missy. Wendy. You shower quickly."

Missy smirks. "It's a nice talent to have."

"We didn't expect to see you here," Wendy says.

"Yes, well, I was a bit curious about the first practice of the year, so I figured I'd tag along."

"You're sure that's the only reason?" Missy asks. "Maybe you wanted to see us."

"Or my _girlfriend_."

"Hmph, you see her all the time," Missy continues. "You sure you didn't come to see what else _we_can offer."

"I'm sure," Rachel retorts. "Though I am curious about what you were wearing around your ankles and wrists. No one else was wearing one."

"Your _girlfriend_, thinks just because she's a senior, she can force things on us."

"As if _that_intimidates us," Wendy adds.

"Um, okay. That still doesn't exactly answer my question."

"Work out weights," Wendy answers. "She said that Coach said we _had_to wear them."

"Oh."

"And while they do add some difficulty to the routines, it's hardly a hindrance," Missy says.

"What the hell are you skanks doing?"

Quinn and Santana have come out of the locker room with Brittany just behind them.

"Oh hello, _Lopez_," Missy smirks. "Just talking to _Rach_here."

"Yeah," Wendy adds. "She had a question to ask us."

"I bet," Santana retorts. "Come on Rach, let's get out of here."

Having already gathered up her things, Rachel grabs her bag and hops off the bleachers. Santana grabs her hand and pulls her closer before kissing her possessively. Then without a look back at Wendy or Missy, she drags Rachel off the field.

**…**

The four of them end up at Rachel's, despite Quinn's protests.

"Rachel's going to make us lunch," Santana says. "And then you can go do whatever it is you're stressing about."

"Yeah, how come you don't want to hang out, Q?" Brittany asks.

"I'm meeting Alyson soon," Quinn replies.

"Oooh," Brittany says. "That's different."

"I never agreed to make you guys lunch," Rachel interjects.

"You should invite her over," Brittany suggests.

"Uh, no," Quinn replies. "No. No. And no."

"We got it, Q," Santana says as she begins gathering ingredients for Rachel.

"How come?" Brittany asks. "We won't embarrass you."

"I might," Santana throws out.

"We should all hang out sometime," Brittany exclaims.

Rachel stays quiet as she starts making lunch.

"Um…"

"It'll be great," Brittany continues. "Me, Quinn, Alyson, San and Rachy."

"Won't you feel like a fifth wheel, B?" Santana asks.

"No," Brittany replies. "Because whenever I do, I just pretend I'm in a polygamous relationship with Rachy and San."

For once, no one knows what to say.

"That explains a lot, actually," Rachel says finally.

"Uh, B," Quinn pipes up. "Do you actually know what being in a polygamous relationship means?"

Brittany nods. "It means that we're all together. And I've already had sex with them both together, so it's not a complete lie."

Quinn's jaw drops while Santana groans.

"That information goes under the "I didn't need to know that" category," Quinn says.

"I agree," Santana adds.

"Sorry," Brittany replies, not sounding sincere. "But I still think we should all hang out. Maybe I'll just bring a date."

"You might as well agree, Quinn," Rachel says. "You know she isn't going to let up until you do."

"Fine," Quinn huffs. "I'll talk to Alyson."

"Yay," Brittany exclaims.

**…**

Rachel begins working on the Halifax Gibbet Tuesday afternoon after lunch. She calls Mike and asks if he wants to visit the hardware super store with her. Surprised, he agrees. When she picks him up, he's also surprised to find a small trailer attached to her car.

"I didn't even think these were capable of towing anything," Mike comments as he slides into the passenger seat.

"Well certainly nothing large," Rachel agrees. "But for my needs, I think it should be okay."

"You're just full of surprises today, aren't you?"

"Wait until you hear why we're going," Rachel tells him, smiling.

**…**

They grab a trolley upon entry and begin hunting down everything on Rachel's list.

Standing in line to pay, Mike looks over items and asks, "Isn't this going to be expensive?"

"Probably," Rachel nods. She holds up a credit card. "But my dads left me this for emergencies."

"This is an emergency?" Mike asks.

"Well, sort of," Rachel hedges. "Losing to Noah would be terrible and it's not as if I used it that often. Besides, the road trip wiped me out. I'm running a bit low on funds."

"Understandable," Mike says. "You didn't pay for _everything_yourself, did you?"

"No, we split the hotels and both Brittany and Santana gave me gas money. And then everyone paid for themselves in the Dells as well as in Kasota. I just threw in the extra to upgrade Santana's package."

"Still, that's a large chunk of change."

"Agreed. But it was worth it."

It's finally their turn, so they put as much as they can on the conveyer belt. The rest is scanned by the cashier. Rachel swipes the credit card and signs the little screen.

"I wish you could have come," Rachel says as they walk out.

"Nah," Mike replies. "My parents never would have let me. Besides, I know you guys have this _thing_. I don't want to get between that."

"Still…"

"Maybe another time," Mike says. "Once I'm eighteen, I'm hoping the folks will relax about it, a bit."

"Ha! We'll see."

They load everything into Rachel's car. She pulls bungee cords out of the trunk and secures everything tightly. Still in a bit of awe, Mike watches and half-heartedly offers assistance. In under ten minutes the cart is empty and being pushed to a cart carrel.

"Whoa dude," Mike says as he climbs back in the car. "That was efficient."

**…**

At the house, they unload everything and carry it to the backyard. Rachel orders pizza to say thanks for the help.

"You don't have to do that, Rach," Mike tells her. "I mean we _just_talked about how you're strapped for money."

"This is from the food fund my dads leave me," Rachel replies. "Besides, I don't really feel like making anything and would most likely order something anyway. Pizza's just the easiest, because I'm sure Santana will show up any moment and want some."

"She's suppose to come over?" Mike asks. "I can get out of here if-"

"Mike, it's fine," Rachel tells him. "Santana always stops by. We're a little too codependent that way, but don't tell her I said that. I think we've seen each other every day this summer."

"Awww."

"_Do not_tell her I told you," Rachel warns. "Bad things will happen."

"To me? Or you?"

"Probably both."

**…**

Wednesday at 10:45, Rachel is pulling into the Tyler driveway. She knocks on the door and Josh answers it.

"Hey Rachel."

"Hello Josh, how are you?"

"Just fine. You hear for the munchkin?"

"I told you not to call me that," Kat says, appearing behind Josh. "You're only three years older."

"But I can still lord over you," Josh tells her as he looms over her.

"Just because you're a tall freak, doesn't mean you can."

"Actually I think it does," Josh replies.

"Not that this isn't fascinating," Rachel interrupts. "Because it's not. But we should really get going."

"Sure," Josh says. "What time you think you guys'll be done?"

Rachel shrugs.

"Dinner time?" Kat suggests. "Maybe Rachel can stay for dinner?"

"If it's okay with your parents," Rachel replies.

"I'll ask them," Josh says. "But…"

"Alyson's filled me in a little," Rachel tells him. "I understand."

"Good. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Bye Joshie."

"Bye Munchkin."

Shaking her head, Rachel just leads Kat to her car.

**…**

Kat says she's not too hungry yet, so head to the zoo. It's nothing too impressive, but it's a beautiful summer day, for once not too hot and so they stroll the zoo, mostly chatting and watching the animals.

Kat is surprisingly random. Usually when they went for ice cream, Kat let the older teens steer the conversation, but now with only Rachel as an audience, her conversation topics bounce around like a five year old hopped up on sugar.

Rachel doesn't mind. She genuinely likes Kat and enjoys the youthful exuberance that she feels she's lost.

**…**

Meanwhile, Cheerio practice is just finishing up. In addition to making Missy and Wendy wear the ankle and wrist weights, Santana has asked Quinn to make them run laps. Not wanting to know, Quinn agrees and assigns the two sophomores twenty-five laps around the field before they're allowed into the locker room. Knowing it'll make her happy, Quinn then assigns Santana to watch and make sure they run all the laps.

**…**

When Rachel drops Kat off at the Tyler residence, she is indeed invited to dinner. She accepts and then texts Santana not to stop by until later.

She meets Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, who seem to appreciate her conservative style and manners. But just sitting at the table for five minutes, she can understand some of the things Alyson, Josh and even Kat have implied. She wouldn't feel comfortable coming out to these people.

And while normally Rachel isn't one to lie or hide things; she does adjust her life to fit the traditional family values Mr. and Mrs. Tyler obvious regard. She tells them that her daddy is in sales and that her mother is a music teacher; that she's not looking for a boyfriend at the moment because it would be a distraction for her upcoming, very busy senior year, while leaving out things like she's Jewish or adopted.

Rachel had a fun time with Kat. She doesn't want to lose the opportunity to do it again.

**…**

Rachel's surprised to find Santana in her room when she gets home.

"Not that it's not nice to see you," Rachel says, crawling onto the bed with Santana. "But why are you here?"

"I missed you."

"You saw me last night," Rachel points out.

"Yeah, but Chang was here."

"You're not too exhausted from practice?"

"Nah," Santana replies. "Besides, maybe you should just do all the work."

"Well…I do have those handcuffs."

**…**

Rachel feels a bit bad. Mike came over to hang out and like last time, she's so focused on building the Halifax Gibbet, that she's afraid she's not a very exciting host. Mike assures her it's okay.

"Besides, we can't have you lose a bet to Puck, right?"

Rachel smiles in gratitude.

"And it's not like we can't talk," Mike continues. "Well, when you're not using power tools."

"True."

"Though I have to admit I never thought I'd see Rachel Berry wielding a screw gun."

"Knowing every aspect of a theater production is important," Rachel replies. "It helps better understand the whole process."

"That makes sense.

**…**

Running extra laps and wearing limb weights have just become a given for Missy and Wendy. Though neither will admit it to anyone but the other, it's definitely taking its toll on them both. But not wanting Lopez to win, they hold back their wails of agony until they're in the safety of their homes.

However, Santana isn't willing to let them wallow in their current misery, she wants to add to it. In addition to the laps, she adds suicides, squat thrusts and pushups.

Wendy briefly wonders what Coach Sylvester thinks of what Lopez is doing or if the woman even cares. Under her watchful eye, Wendy truly feels like a pawn in something much larger. It's not very comforting.

Unfortunately for Lopez, all the extra work seems to be having the opposite on Missy. It seems to make her more determined. It worries Wendy because the game is, in her mind, becoming more dangerous.

**…**

Brittany must have amazing powers of persuasion, Rachel thinks as she sits in her living room with Santana on one side and Brittany on the other. Alyson and Quinn are cuddled up in a recliner. The five of them are watching a movie.

Despite being fairly comfortable around Rachel, Alyson keeps glancing over at the couch with a curious expression. Rachel assumes it's about the way Brittany's curled up with her and Santana. She also assumes this is one of those moments Brittany was talking about; she's pretending she's in a relationship with both her and Santana.

She and Santana didn't really talk about it. Rachel is fine with it. Brittany's been such a great friend and supporter of the relationship, who is Rachel to stop her from cuddling with her best friend?

Quinn is used to the sight and is completely unfazed. This seems to also baffle Alyson a bit. The potential for awkwardness hangs over them all. Rachel supposes it's her job to fix it and so she spends the rest of the movie pondering what to do next.

**…**

Fortunately or not, depending on how you look at it, Santana has decided the same thing. Though unlike Rachel, her solution is alcohol.

"We should play a drinking game," Santana says.

"We're not playing 'I Never', S," Quinn replies.

"Nor are we attempting Strip Poker, Brittany," Rachel adds.

"Awww," Brittany pouts.

"Why don't we just play poker and everyone but the winner has to drink?" Alyson suggests.

"Works for me," Santana shrugs.

Rachel easily finds a deck of cards, but no poker chips. Brittany suggests the big coffee can of change.

"Everything can be what it is," Brittany explains. "A penny can be one, a nickel five, a dime ten and a quarter, twenty-five."

"Works for me," Alyson says.

"Nice idea, B," Santana adds.

Brittany smiles widely as Rachel returns with the coffee can and begins dividing up the change for everyone. Quinn grabs the deck of cards and begins shuffling.

"So what are we playing?" Santana asks.

"We're not playing Texas Hold 'em," Rachel answers.

"Why not?" Alyson asks.

"Brittany wins _every_hand," Santana replies.

"_Every_hand?" Quinn questions.

Rachel nods. "It's freaky."

"It's awesome," Brittany adds.

"Just five card stud, then," Alyson says.

"I'll deal first then," Quinn says.

**…**

"…and we ended up playing for five hours," Rachel tells Mike the next day when he stops by. Needing a break, she relaxes in the grass as they talk.

"That's good, though, right?" Mike asks. "It alleviated the tension."

"It was certainly a distraction," Rachel agrees. "Especially since Britt kept trying to get us to play strip poker."

Mike just chuckles.

They're both sprawled out in the grass, looking into the clouds. Rachel sits up and looks at Mike.

"Something's up."

"What?"

"You've got good news," Rachel tells him. "And you're not telling me."

"Well, I don't know if it's _good_news," Mike says. "But I have a date tonight, myself."

"Oooh, who with?"

"Uh, do you remember Michelle Jamieson? She just graduated?"

Rachel smirks. "Oh I know Michelle."

Mike blinks a moment.

"Not like _that_," Rachel says. "I just meant that I've had conversations with her."

"Really?" Mike asks. "That's… unexpected."

Rachel nods. "We like to flirt. Well, she likes to flirt."

"Uh, okay…"

"Don't worry, Mike," Rachel assures him. "She only does it to annoy Santana. She knows I won't let Santana do anything to her. It's harmless."

"Oh. Okay."

"So what happened?"

"I ran into her yesterday coming out of the dance studio. I guess she's taking ballet this summer to help her with soccer. I guess she's worried about playing college level and her coach suggested ballet."

"Huh."

"And she recognized me and we started chatting and it was nice, so I sort of just blurted out, 'Do you want to go out?' and luckily she found it charming and said yes."

"Good for you stud."

**…**

When Kat finds out that Rachel is building a Halifax Gibbet, she wants to come over and see it. So Thursday morning after her dance class, Rachel swings by the Tyler residence and picks her up. No one else is home today, so Kat bounds out of the door the moment Rachel pulls into the driveway.

They have a lunch consisting of sandwiches and fruit before heading into the backyard.

Kat is in awe as Rachel explains the huge device, though Rachel tries to brush off the astonishment.

"But you build this," Kat says, walking slowly around it.

"Well, yes, but it's no big deal," Rachel replies. "It's really just a large frame and a small pulley system."

"Still, this is totally awesome."

"Well, I'm only doing this to win a bet," Rachel explains.

"So what else do you need to do to finish?"

**…**

Thursday afternoon finds Alyson and Quinn hanging out. Worn out from Cheerios, Quinn is grateful that Alyson is okay with just lounging in her room. The worry of sending the wrong signals is always in the back of Quinn's mind, but Alyson never pushes, so she tries to brush it aside.

"I think you guys train much harder than I ever had to," Alyson says.

"Yeah, well, Coach Sylvester is a slave driver."

"And all those trophies don't support going easy on people, do they?"

"No they do not," Quinn agrees. "It's worth it, to get out of here, though. Wouldn't you agree?"

Alyson nods. "I wish I could watch you cheer some time."

"It's not _that_exciting," Quinn replies.

"Still."

"Well then maybe I could see you play one day," Quinn suggests.

"I don't know."

"You want to see me cheer," Quinn replies. "I want to see you play."

"Couldn't I just run a few soccer drills in the yard? And you can perform a simple cheer? In your uniform though."

"Hmmm, does someone have a _thing_for cheerleaders?"

"I have a thing for _you_in a cheerleading outfit," Alyson replies.

"Good answer."

**…**

It takes about two weeks, but Rachel manages to finish the Halifax Gibbet early Friday afternoon. It's fully functional with a real and fake blade. She's pretty proud of it since she did it mostly on her own with just a little assistance from Mike.

The fake blade is for Coach Sylvester. Rachel has no idea what Coach has planned, but knowing her, having a fake blade will help ensure that no one gets hurt in the device that Rachel built.

She takes a picture and emails it to Coach Sylvester.

Exactly four minutes later her cell rings.

"Hello?"

"Berry that's an impressive contraption."

"Thank you, Coach," Rachel replies. "Do I want to know how you got my cell number?"

"Scrolling through your other half's contacts. "Does Lopez send you anything besides sexts?"

"Once in a while."

"Tell me you have time to meet this weekend, so I can borrow it," Coach Sylvester orders.

"Sunday?"

"Hmmm. Okay. I'll send over some guys Sunday morning with a truck. They'll load it and then you'll accompany them to the school. They'll unload it and get it set up. Then you can help me handle the final details."

"And long do you think that's going to take?" Rachel asks. "Because I should really-"

"Only an hour or two, Berry," Coach Sylvester interrupts. "Lopez will be fine, she can hug your pillow until you get back."

"Fine," Rachel huffs. "I'll see you Sunday."

**...**

"Holy fucking shit, Rach…"

For once, Rachel doesn't try to reprimand Noah's cursing.

"I can't believe that you actually…"

For once, Rachel doesn't know what to think of the awe in Noah's voice. "I told you I could," Rachel replies.

"Well, sure, some of the pranks have been elaborate, but you always have help with those."

"I should be insulted," Rachel tells him. "As you know, I have a theater background and while performing has always been my primary creative outlet, I have engaged in backstage endeavors as well. I felt it was my duty as a performer to be well rounded."

"Yeah, but I thought you meant that you like helped paint something or whatever."

"Hardly," Rachel scoffs. "I've done load ins, light hangs, changeovers, and strikes."

"Huh?"

"I've built and taken down numerous sets."

"Does it work?" Noah asks.

"Now I am insulted," Rachel retorts. "Of course it does."

Rachel grabs a melon from the basket of melons sitting next to the base of the device. She places it in the head cradle. She walks over to the tree that has a rope tied to it. The rope is controlling the pulley that's holding the heavy blade. She unties the rope and lets the blade fall. It drops and slices through the melon with ease.

"Shit."

"You can never doubt me ever again," Rachel tells him.

"I never will," Noah assures her solemnly.

"So pay up," Rachel says as she pulls out her cell phone.

Sighing, Noah stands in front of Rachel, waiting for her to give the go ahead.

"I'm a little teapot," Noah sings. "Short and stout. Here is my handle." Noah puts his left hand on his hip. "Here is my spout." He sticks his right arm straight out. "When I get all steamed up, hear me shout. Just tip me over and pour me out." Noah leans to his right.

Rachel claps. "Second verse."

Noah sighs again, but starts singing again, hands still in position. "I'm a clever teapot, yes it's true. Here's an example of what I can do. I can change my handle to my spout." Noah puts his right hand on his hip and sticks his left straight out. "Just tip me over and pour me out." Noah tips to his left.

"Yay," Rachel cheers as she stops recording on her phone. "So awesome."

"You better not show anyone that," Noah tells her.

"Like you wouldn't have shown people if _you'd_won," Rachel replies.

"Yeah, but Rachel Berry doing Marilyn Monroe? No one would believe me."

"Just promise me," Rachel says. "I don't care if you're lying or not, but promise me you didn't pick that because it's some big fantasy of yours."

"It's not, Rach, I swear," Noah assures her. "Like you, I tried to pick something you'd never agree to otherwise. Right?"

"Right."

**…**

When Santana arrives Saturday morning, she finds Rachel in the kitchen reading the paper.

"Where's Puck?"

"Apparently he didn't want to spend the night again," Rachel replies. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not."

"Is he still pouting that you haven't hung out with him more this summer?" Santana asks.

Rachel shrugs. "Maybe. I don't know why, actually. Besides, he should know he could stop by anytime."

"Well there are pools to clean and cougars to defile."

"He could stop by after," Rachel replies.

"Like you want him around you when he's covered with cougar sex."

"Ewww. Hopefully he'd shower first," Rachel says.

"It's Puck, Rach, what do you think?"

**…**

Sunday morning, Rachel is woken up by a text at 5:45 am. It's from Coach Sylvester. She has fifteen minutes to get ready because three guys are coming over to pick up the Halifax Gibbet. Rachel briefly wonders if Coach had to pay extra for Sunday service. Actually, knowing Coach Sylvester, she's probably blackmailing a moving company; that seems more like her style.

At 5:55 am, Rachel is dressed in jeans, converses and a t-shirt, sitting on her front step. She's surprised when a few minutes later, a familiar truck pulls into her driveway. The passenger door swings open and out step Ron and Billy Saunders. Rachel blinks in surprise as Tommy joins them.

"Hey Rach," Billy Saunders greets her. "I thought this was your address."

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Sue said she had something insane and enormous for us to pick up. And then she gave us this address."

"Interesting," Rachel says. "Well, I'll show you where it is. I hope you brought a dolly or a cart with."

**…**

"Holy shit," Tommy says.

The four of them are standing in front of the Halifax Gibbet. Billy's jaw has actually dropped.

"You built this?" Ron asks.

"I did," Rachel nods.

"Why?" Billy asks.

"A bet."

"Oh. Wow."

"Then why are we delivering this to Coach Sylvester?" Tommy asks.

"She wants to borrow it." Rachel shrugs. "I don't know what for."

"Huh," Ron says.

"Sometimes it's better not to ask," Tommy mutters.

They carefully load it onto the cart and wheel it to the driveway. There, they carefully push it into the back of the truck. Rachel then lays the fake blade next to it.

"We're supposed to bring you," Billy informs Rachel.

"I'll follow you," Rachel tells them. "That way I'll have a way to get home."

Tommy nods and the three brothers climb into the truck.

When Rachel arrives at McKinley, the Saunders brothers are already unloading. Rachel follows them as they push the cart into school.

It's odd to be here during the summer, Rachel thinks; even if it's a Sunday.

They stop at Coach Sylvester's office and Rachel knocks on the door.

After a moment, "Enter."

Rachel sticks her head in the office, surprised to see Becky there as well. "Where do you want this thing, Coach?"

"Becky, show them to the room."

Becky nods.

**…**

Rachel trails behind Becky, feeling apprehensive. Behind her, she hears the Saunders' brothers struggling with the Halifax Gibbet; it really wasn't made to travel.

They finally arrive at a door, Rachel doesn't recognize. Becky pulls out a key and unlocks it, raising Rachel's suspicions. Just when she thought Coach Sylvester couldn't surprise her anymore.

It's a small room, maybe ten by ten feet, at most. While Rachel watches, Becky directs the brothers to set up the Halifax Gibbet in the corner, farthest from the door.

Looking around, Rachel notices there's another door that has a tripod and video camera set up near it. There's a bunch of cables running underneath the door. Curious, Rachel goes to try the door.

It opens, to her surprise. On the other side of the door, she finds Artie with his head behind a small TV, sitting on a small table.

"Oh. Hi Artie."

"Oh. hey Rachel," he greets. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Rachel returns. "I'm dropping something off for Coach Sylvester."

"Oh. Is it the reason she asked me to set up this TV and camera?" he asks.

"Probably," Rachel shrugs.

"That should do it." Artie backs away from the TV and turns it on.

After a moment, an image of the other room pops up. Artie and Rachel watch as Tommy holds the cart steady while Ron and Billy slide the Halifax Gibbet onto the giant duct tape X on the floor.

"What the hell is that?" Artie asks.

"It's a Halifax Gibbet," Rachel answers. "Coach Sylvester asked to borrow it."

"What the hell is a Halifax Gibbet and why do you have one?"

"It's like a guillotine," Rachel tells him. "And I built it."

"What? Why? How?"

"Noah and I made a wager," Rachel replies. "And I don't know, I just did."

"And it works?"

"Of course it works."

"Rachel Berry, you might be my hero," Artie tells her.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been wanting to build a time machine," Artie continues. "If I can ever figure out the science, you're helping me."

"Okay," Rachel agrees slowly. "But I actually know very little about that sort of thing."

"Or something else, then," Artie says.

"Okay."

**…**

The five of them follow Becky back to Coach Sylvester's office. Everyone follows her in like soldiers being summoned by their superior officer.

Coach Sylvester doesn't look up when they enter. She only asks, "Is it all set up?"

"Looks good, Coach."

"Saunders," she says. "You three are dismissed."

Tommy nods. "All right then. Let's go, guys. Rachel, nice to see you again."

"You too, Tommy. Ron. Billy."

"Bye Rach." Billy gives Rachel a quick hug and runs after his brothers.

"Wheels," Coach says after all the brothers have left.

"Yeah, Coach?"

"You have that camera set up exactly as I specified?"

Artie nods.

"Berry."

"Coach."

"That contraption of yours is fully functional?"

"Of course it is Coach," Rachel answers.

"And you brought both blades?"

"You know I did, Coach."

"Fine. I expect to see you tomorrow with Lopez then."

Rachel nods.

"Dismissed."

**…**

When Rachel arrives home, she's hoping to just slip back into bed. It's certainly early enough that Santana will most likely still be sleeping.

Tip toeing into her room, Rachel quickly begins stripping. However, as she's pulling back to covers, Santana speaks up.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Out. On an errand."

"Oh?"

Rachel nods as she curls into Santana.

"But you're not going to tell me where?" Santana asks.

"I can't."

"You can't?"

Rachel nods again.

Santana sighs. Rachel can feel how tense Santana is, despite their relaxed position.

"Will you tell me, eventually?"

"Yes."

"Okay then."

Rachel feels Santana relax and she tightens her hold around her girlfriend in gratitude, letting herself drift off to sleep for a few more hours.

**…**

Monday morning, Santana sleepily slips into Rachel's car.

"I don't understand why you want to come to another practice," Santana mumbles.

"Maybe I just don't want to be away from you for too long," Rachel replies, smiling.

"Uh huh. Whatever Berry." Santana lifts her left leg. "Now pull the other one."

**…**

Rachel watches practice, not really paying attention. She has her prank notebook with her, but for once, she doesn't feel like brainstorming ideas. Instead, she's content to let her mind wander as she watches the flashes of red and white flow and glide across the field as others fly through the air.

She's pretty sure she knows what Coach Sylvester is planning, but she's not sure why she needs to be there. Maybe in case something goes wrong.

Practice is almost over when Rachel senses Coach Sylvester's presence.

"Berry."

"Coach."

"You'll be the one dealing with you little device," Coach says.

"I figured as much."

"Then I'll assume you've figured out what I want to do?"

"I have a few ideas," Rachel replies. "I'm not sure I see the point, though."

"I have my reasons," Coach Sylvester says. "Besides, I do like to keep people guessing."

"Consider yourself successful," Rachel mutters.

Ignoring her, Coach Sylvester pulls out her bullhorn. "All right you pathetic excuse for athletes!" she shouts. "Get out of here and clean the failure off yourselves. Then I expect you all to be in room 166 in fifteen minutes."

Everyone staggers off the field, though a few, mostly the seniors look at Coach Sylvester in confusion since she rarely has_every_one stay after. It's usually for the newbies to see how far she can push them.

Lowering the bullhorn, Coach Sylvester turns to Rachel.

"C'mon, Berry," she says. "Let's get this started."

Rachel just stands and follows Coach Sylvester down the bleachers.

**…**

"All right, listen up rejects," Coach Sylvester says.

All the Cheerios are gathered in the small room with the TV. It's currently off.

"As most of you know, I like to assess your mental state to make sure none of you are going to have a nervous breakdown on me this school year. I'm particularly pleased to have finally found a worthy test."

Coach Sylvester pulls out a small remote and turns on the TV. The Halifax Gibbet is on screen. Coach Sylvester pulls out a walkie talkie. "Berry, show 'em what it does."

A moment later, Rachel appears on the screen and places a small watermelon in the head cradle. She disappears from the screen and then suddenly a large blade falls, splitting the watermelon in two.

There are audible gulps going through the room.

"That's good, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "Set up the safety blocks. You have the protective gear?"

On screen, Rachel holds up a catcher's mask and helmet.

"Good." Coach Sylvester turns to her Cheerios, blocking their view of the TV. "While Berry sets up the safety blocks, let's chat. I'm sure most of you have figured out what is about to happen, but for those of you that took the short bus here, I'll explain. You're each going to experience the Halifax Gibbet. Berry's been able to rig it that it will stop millimeters from your mask. If you can do this without wetting yourself, then you should be able handle anything I throw at you this coming year. Any questions? Good." Coach Sylvester ignores the four hands that shot up. "Who's first?"

No one movies. Several pairs of eyes shift to Quinn. As captain, she's expected to be the scapegoat for a lot of things.

"I'll go."

Shocked, everyone looks at Brittany in surprise.

"I can go first, Coach," Brittany repeats.

"Hmmm. All right, go ahead, blondie." She picks up the walkie talkie. "First victim coming through, Berry."

Everyone watches as Brittany, looking cheerful and exuberant as always, goes into the other room.

**…**

Everyone watches as Brittany enters the other room. There's no sound, so they can't tell what exactly Rachel is saying to the blonde as she hands over the catcher's equipment. They watch as Brittany puts it on and is led to the Halifax Gibbet. Rachel helps her lie down so her head is in the cradle. Then Rachel disappears off screen. She must ask Brittany if she's ready because the blonde nods and then gets impressively still.

And then screen goes black.

**…**

"Huh," Coach Sylvester says, not looking surprised. "What a shock. Our A/V equipment is faulty." She walks over to the TV and gives it a smack.

There's a quick shriek from the next room.

"Ready for the next person, Coach." Rachel's voice comes through the walkie talkie.

"All right Berry." She turns to face the rest of them. "So who's next?"

A hand shoots up and a voice asks, "Just to be clear, Coach. You want us to lie under a real blade and trust that _Rachel Berry_rigged it properly?"

Santana growls at the implicating tone, but doesn't speak up, trusting Coach Sylvester to say something.

"I am," Coach smirks. "If you can't handle that, you might as well leave now."

No one moves.

"So who's next?"

**…**

Santana goes next, knowing her trust in Rachel is the best way to defend her.

"Hey babe," Santana greets, walking into the room.

"Hi tiger," Rachel smiles. "Ready?"

Santana nods. Rachel puts the mask on her and pulls the helmet on. She leads her to the device and has her lie down.

"Don't be nervous," Rachel says.

"I trust you," Santana replies.

"I know, San," Rachel tells her. "Just relax."

Santana closes her eyes. She hears Rachel take several steps. She hears her girlfriend count to three and then the whoosh of the blade falling. The whole thing shakes with a thud and she feels something against her face. Opening her eyes, she finds a Styrofoam blade in her face and Rachel chuckling to herself. The blade disappears and she's pulled to her feet. She quickly whips off the equipment.

"So you switched the blade?"

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I'm good, but there's no need to be completely careless."

"Thank god."

"Coach just wants to know who'll step up and who won't."

Santana shakes her head. "Like she's not dangerous enough without your help."

"Maybe so," Rachel agrees. "But now she owes me two favors."

"You are the most powerful person in this school," Santana tells her.

"I know," Rachel smiles.

**…**

Quinn is next, looking extremely nervous. Reverting to her old insults as comfort, Rachel just ignores her, telling her to relax.

"I'll relax when I'm out of this torture device that _you_apparently build Man Hands," Quinn snaps.

Rachel just smirks and lets the blade drop.

**…**

One by one, the Cheerios reluctantly enter the room and accept the catcher's mask and helmet. Not everyone succeeds. A couple jump up before the blade can be released and two won't even lie down. Rachel wonders if the waiting has driven them crazy, because they're all being extremely timid or overly harsh, giving Rachel flashback to the beginning of sophomore year.

Wendy Kort is the eighth one to enter. Rachel has to admit she's surprised that Wendy is trying it before Missy, since she seems to always follow the other girl's lead.

"Hey Rachel."

"Hello Wendy," Rachel replies. She hands over the safety equipment.

Wendy accepts it looking worried. She puts it on and lies down under the blade.

"Ready?"

"No. But go."

Rachel chuckles and lets the blade go.

**…**

They're allowed to leave once they've experienced the Halifax Gibbet. Since Rachel is her ride, Santana decides to go hang out in Coach Sylvester's office and wait, since it seems to be one of the few rooms in the school actually receiving air conditioning.

"Hey Becky," Santana greets, slipping inside.

"Hi Santana. How'd it go?"

"I passed or whatever," Santana replies.

"Good."

Santana pulls out her phone to check the time when Becky speaks up again.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"Rachel's like your girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah."

"She's pretty awesome."

"I agree," Santana says.

"Did she really build that thing?" Becky asks.

"Seems so."

"Do you think she'd build me something if I asked?"

"I don't know. Can't hurt to ask."

"Cool."

**…**

Rachel's removing the fake blade because she's finally finished when the door opens. She's surprised to see Tommy Saunders again.

"Hey, Rach."

"Hi Tommy. What brings you here?"

"Oh, Coach Sylvester wanted us to come get this thing and put it back in your yard."

"Wow, she is quick."

"Definitely," he agrees.

Billy appears a moment later with the cart with Ron trailing behind.

They quickly load the Halifax Gibbet onto the cart and Ron pushes it out with Tommy helping. Billy grabs the real blade while Rachel grabs the fake one.

"I didn't realize you guys had your own delivery company," Rachel comments as she and Billy walk through the school.

"We don't," Billy replies. "Coach Sylvester just calls us when she needs something. She knows we have a truck."

"Oh."

"She pays _really_well, so we really don't mind being at her beck and call."

"Fair enough," Rachel says.

Once everything's loaded, the Saunders brothers drive off towards Rachel's house, even though she told them she wouldn't be following them.

"We'll just put it back where we found it, Rachel," Tommy tells her.

"Thanks guys."

**…**

Rachel finds Santana in Coach Sylvester's office, watching the video with Becky and Coach Sylvester. Having experienced it, she's not really interested, but she can tell her girlfriend is amused.

"I'm disappointed in you Santana," Rachel announces, entering.

"What? Why?"

"Because you weren't first," Rachel replies. "Did you not trust me?"

"What? Of course not," Santana says. "I just… I was caught off guard."

"Uh huh," Rachel says. "Well, at least Brittany trusts me."

"She's got a point, Lopez," Coach Sylvester adds. "Your nicer blonde BFF trusted Berry."

"_Hey_, I went second."

"Oooh, second."

"Whatever."

"I'm going now, Coach," Rachel says. "I helped the Saunders brothers lead it up and they're heading back to my house."

"Perfect. I owe you one, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "This has been my best test yet."

"Yeah, maybe next time you can tar and feather 'em," Santana quips.

"Hmmm," Coach Sylvester thinks. "Maybe."

**…**

"So is this what you were doing yesterday morning?" Santana asks as Rachel drives back to her house.

"It was."

"But you weren't allowed to tell?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "You know how important the element of surprise is."

"Hmph. I don't see what I couldn't have had a _small_heads up."

"It wouldn't have been fair," Rachel says.

"Life isn't fair," Santana retorts.

"I am well aware, Santana," Rachel replies. "But I promised I wouldn't and I keep my promises."

**…**

This week Kat wants to go the history museum. Rachel assumes it's related to the creation in her backyard that Kat was fascinated by the week before. Rachel doesn't mind; she likes Kat's enthusiasm and she can admit that history has become more interesting to her lately, as well.

**…**

Mike and Rachel are watching TV after Rachel dropped Kat off at her house. Rachel keeps glancing over at Mike. He hasn't said anything about his date last week and she's dying of curiosity.

"So?"

"What?" Mike asks.

"Your date last week. How'd it go?"

"Oh. Pretty good."

"That's it?" Rachel asks. "Just pretty good?"

"Yeah. I mean, we had a nice time and since the summer's almost over and she's going to school soon, we're just going to hang out and have fun."

"So no more dates?"

"No," Mike replies. "They're still dates. But we're keeping everything causal."

"Hmmm."

"There's nothing wrong with having a little fun without anything serious attached," Mike defends.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking it," Mike points out.

"Yes, but I then thought that was unfair of me to think," Rachel replies.

"Well, I guess that's a start."

**…**

"So how are things going with Quinn?" Rachel asks Alyson.

Because Coach Sylvester is demanding extra practice this week, Rachel asked Alyson if she wants to hang out.

"Pretty good, I think," Alyson replies.

"You think?"

"Quinn's still… Well, she's still working on getting comforting with this whole liking girls thing."

"That's what I was afraid of," Rachel says. "I was hoping once she admitted it to herself, she would begin dealing with it, but in true Fabray fashion, she's avoiding it."

"It's understandable," Alyson defends.

Rachel smiles. "It's totally understandable," she agrees. "I just feel bad. I don't want anyone to get hurt and if Quinn isn't ready-"

"Rachel," Alyson interrupts. "It's fine. I like Quinn. I've had fun hanging out with her and… other stuff."

"You're sure?"

Alyson nods.

"Then I'll try not to worry."

"Ha," Alyson scoffs.

**…**

"So I think I know what your first prank of the year should be," Santana announces Sunday morning.

"What?"

"Giant slushie."

"Excuse me?"

"There's gotta be a way to slushie everyone. Like with the sprinklers."

"That might actually work," Rachel says, mulling it over. "Though what is your obsession with slushing people. I don't ever remember you throwing one."

"I do prefer the verbal assaults," Santana agrees. "I don't know. Maybe because this is different. This is revenge, sort of."

"Well, in theory, it sounds easy enough. Though I'd rather not be slushied and our absence _will_be noticed."

"Just be the good fairy, like you were before and warn certain people," Santana replies. "We'll give the others umbrellas and then it won't be so odd."

"They're going to think it's you," Rachel says.

"All the better for me," Santana smirks.

"Are you trying to steal my spotlight?"

"Course not, babe," Santana replies. "But if it's going to be pointed my way, I might as well use it. Right?"

Rachel doesn't respond.

"Unless you're going to step up and admit that it's you," Santana continues.

"Figgins would probably expel me," Rachel retorts. "Besides, I doubt anyone would believe it's me."

"Well, Figgins might."

"No, I'll stick to my original plan," Rachel replies. "And you're right. It would be silly not to use the reputation of the prankster."

"Don't worry, babe," Santana says. "The important people know what a badass you are."

"You mean you, Noah and Brittany?"

"Yep."

"That's less comforting than you'd think, San."

**…**

"Bro," Noah greets when Rachel answers her cell Monday afternoon.

"Noah."

"We're having an end of the summer bar-b-que at your place Friday afternoon."

"Excuse me? Says who?"

"Dude, come on," Noah replies. "It makes perfect sense. And it's our senior year. We have to make sure it starts off on an epic scale. Right?"

"Certainly," Rachel agrees. "But why does it have to be at my house?"

"Cause your dads are never around," Noah points out. "I mean, no offense. But it's true."

"I'm not sure I want—"

"Please, Rach," Noah asks. "I promise I'll totally help out. And it'll totally be mellow. The parties didn't turn out so bad, did they?"

"Depends on what you mean," Rachel mutters to herself. "Fine. But no other Cheerios. And I'm inviting Quinn's girlfriend, so you better not give her a hard time."

"Awww, Rach, come on, if I don't give Q a hard time, I—"

"No, Noah."

"Fine," he huffs.

"And make sure people bring their own meat. Just because I'm fine with everyone else choosing to be murders, doesn't mean I'm fine having dead animal carcass in my fridge."

"Course. Of course. I'll take care of it all, okay, bro?"

"You better," Rachel threatens. "Or you will _owe_me."

Noah gulps.

"And I _always_collect."

"Right. Course. All right. I'm gonna start calling people."

"Keep it small, Noah," Rachel warns.

"Aye, aye, boss," Noah says before hanging up.

**…**

Wendy's starting to doubt Missy. While Cheerios practice is always exhausting, Lopez's anger has made it grueling. As the summer drags on, she finds herself more and more tired. It takes a supreme amount of effort to even drive home, walk up the stairs and collapse onto her bed.

She mentions this to Missy one morning as they're getting ready. Her best friend just scoffs at her.

"After this, the school year will feel like a piece of cake," she retorts.

"Not if you keep pushing her," Wendy replies.

"There's too much going on during the school year," Missy argues. "She'll get distracted and forget about us."

"I think you're mixing up Lopez with Pierce," Wendy replies.

"You worry too much, Wendy. Besides, we're going to be in insanely good shape."

"Great, we'll be ready for that triathlon, we've been meaning to run then," Wendy mutters.

**…**

"You're coming to the party, right?" Rachel asks Mike

"I don't know. I mean, I'm supposed to do something with Michelle this weekend, since she's going to Ohio State next week."

"Bring her with," Rachel tells him.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I thought she and Santana don't get along."

Rachel shrugs. "If I tell San Michelle's coming as _your_date, hopefully that will help mellow her out a bit."

"If you're sure…"

"I mean you guys don't have to stay that long if you want some _alone_time," Rachel replies. "But I was hoping to see you for a bit."

"Well, if you're sure," Mike says. "I'll ask Michelle if she wants to stop by for a while."

"I'm sure. I'll talk to San and it'll be fine, Mike, I swear."

"Famous last words," Mike mutters to himself.

**…**

"San, I need to tell you something," Rachel says.

It's Thursday night and they're stretched out in the grass in Rachel's backyard.

"Yeah?"

"So you know how Mike had a date last week?"

"_Yeah_?"

"Well, they hit it off and so I told him to bring her on Saturday," Rachel says.

"Good. Chang needs a little action."

"It's Michelle Jamieson."

Except for tensing up, Santana doesn't acknowledge the statement.

"I know you're not her biggest fan, but it would be rude to tell Mike not to bring her just because the two of you don't see eye to eye."

"As long as she keeps her hands to herself, it'll be fine."

**…**

Knowing she'll most likely be told no, Rachel, nonetheless invites Kat to the party. Rachel knows that the Tylers will most likely say no to their thirteen year old daughter hanging out with high schoolers, but Kat's pretty mature for her age. Besides, Alyson will be there.

To her surprise, they say yes. Apparently, Rachel made a very good impression over dinner. They also love Quinn, who they think is simply a new friend of Alyson's and knowing she'll be there as well, probably helped. Or maybe it's the fact that Rachel invited Josh as well.

Kat is, of course, very excited. Though more so because she's being included. The Tyler siblings seem to have a pretty good relationship, but Rachel knows it's tough for Kat because she's not considered old enough to hang out with Josh and Alyson like they apparently all did when they were younger.

**…**

Annoyed that her last Saturday of the summer with Rachel is going to be interrupted, Santana spends Friday night as well.

"Do you feel like we haven't spent enough time together this summer?" Rachel asks as they lay in bed.

"No," Santana replies. "I just thought it'd be nice to spend the last weekend before our senior year together. You know?"

"Awww."

"Shut up."

**…**

Saturday Puck shows up a bit after one to start setting up. Rachel and Santana are at the kitchen table, so they just watch as he rolls a keg into the backyard, followed by a grill. He sets up a banquet table next to the keg and sets a stack of red plastic cups on it. He then sets two large trash bins; one by the grill and one by the patio door. The final part is two large coolers filled with ice.

Entering the house, Puck puts a six-pack of beer in the fridge, minus two and joins Rachel and Santana at the table.

"Impressive," Santana says, accepting the beer from Puck. "Rach must really be rubbing off on you."

"Bro said she didn't want to do any work. And I did promise."

"It looks great, Noah."

"When did you tell people to show up?" Santana asks.

"Like two."

"Please tell me you didn't invite that many people, Noah," Rachel says.

"No way. Just the few like last time. And then whoever you invited."

Santana looks to Rachel.

"I invited Marisa and told her to bring people. And then I invited Josh, his girlfriend and Kat."

"You invited a thirteen year old?" Santana asks.

"What?" Rachel questions. "She's Alyson and Josh's sister. And she's pretty mature. And I figure things won't get too crazy until later, when I plan to drive Kat home."

"Whatever," Santana shrugs.

"And Felix might stop by," Rachel continues.

"What?"

"He said he had plans, but he'd try to stop by."

"Why would you invite him?" Santana asks.

"Because I like him," Rachel retorts.

"You're the only one," Santana mumbles.

**…**

Everything's in full swing by three. Puck is manning the grill and chatting with a couple of guys from the football team. Since this is more Puck's deal than her own, Rachel is leaning against the tree in the corner of her yard talking with Kat and Brittany.

Everyone else is spread out through the yard, talking, eating and drinking. Rachel made sure Puck understood that he was also the bouncer for this party. He readily agreed, figuring it wouldn't be that big of deal. Rachel also made him swear one more time to leave Quinn alone.

"I make no promises if I get wasted, bro."

"Then don't get wasted Noah."

"But, Rach, it's a party."

"If I have to drag you away from her, I will," Rachel promises. "And you won't like it."

Gulping, Puck nods.

**…**

Around six, it becomes obvious that inebriation is starting to set in. Looking around, Rachel is pretty sure she's one of the few sober ones.

Finding Alyson, Rachel tells her she's going to take Kat home since things are becoming unsuitable for Kat.

Looking around, Alyson sees Finn, for some reason, trying to do a headstand; he's also not wearing a shirt. "Agreed."

Rachel finds Kat talking animatedly to Quinn, Josh and Marisa.

"Hey kiddo, Alyson and I are thinking it's time to get you home."

"Ahhh."

Josh looks around. "Yeah, I think she's right, munchkin."

"But Josh," Kat protests. "It's only six thirty."

"Doesn't matter, kid," he replies. "Aly and I promised mom and dad that we'd send you home when the party rating is no longer PG-13."

"Fine," Kat huffs, stomping away.

"Thanks for driving her, Rach," Josh says.

"It's not a problem. See you guys in a bit."

**…**

"I know you're not happy about leaving," Rachel says as she drives towards the Tyler house. "But you at least had fun while you were there, right?"

Kat nods.

"Well, I'm glad you were able to come with. I think it was a good day."

Kat sighs. "Sorry, Rachel. I just can't wait till everyone stops treating me like a kid."

"There's always going to be someone older who sees you as a kid, Kat," Rachel replies. "I still get told I don't understand because I'm only a teenager."

"Yeah, I guess."

"All right, we're here," Rachel announces.

"Thanks for inviting me, Rach," Kat tells her. "That was really cool of you."

"I'm glad you came," Rachel returns. "Call me next week and let me know how the first week of school is going, okay?"

"Okay. Bye Rachel." And Kat bounces out of the car.

Rachel waits until Kat is safely inside the house before pulling away.

**…**

"You guys seen Rachel lately?" Santana asks Marisa, Beatrice, Artie, and Tina

"Yeah, she said she was going to take the kid home," Marisa answers. "Like five minutes ago?"

"Hmph. Nice of her to tell me."

"She said something about texting you since she couldn't find you?" Marisa adds.

Santana pulls out her phone and finds that she has a text from Rachel.

_S I'm taking Kat home. I should be back shortly. Love, R_

**…**

Rachel pulls into her garage and climbs out of her car. She decides to go through the house than around it. However, when she reaches the door that leads into the house, she finds her way blocked by Missy and Wendy.

"Hello girls," Rachel says.

"_Hi Rachel_," they coo together.

"We _really_need to stop meeting like this," Rachel tells them. "Were you invited or did you crash?"

"Crash," Missy replies. "We overhead Brittany talking to Quinn about it on Thursday, so we decided we should stop by."

"That is such a bad idea," Rachel tells them. "Which you know because you're hiding in the garage."

"Maybe we just like the garage," Wendy volunteers.

"That's… weird."

"Ignore her," Missy says. "We'd like to once again submit our application to be part of your harem."

"I do not have a harem," Rachel replies.

"That's not what Brittany says," Missy tells her. "She said you already have three harem girls."

"Three?" Rachel questions.

"Yeah," Wendy replies. "Her. Some theater chick. And someone named Kat."

"Uh, Kat's thirteen."

"Whoa, that's-"

"I don't have a harem and if I did, Kat wouldn't be in it," Rachel says.

"Brittany thinks you do. And if she's a member, then I don't see why we can't be," Missy insists.

Rachel feels like she's seconds away from screaming in frustration. "Wait a minute. Did you say you want to submit your application?"

Missy smirks, believing that Rachel's changing her tune.

"We did."

Rachel stares at them for a moment, thinking. Finally she says, "Give me one of your phones."

"Why?"

"Just give me one," Rachel insists.

Wendy hands over her phone.

Rachel opens a text message and begins typing. Both Missy and Wendy watch as she types for a while, mumbling to herself. Finally after what feels like forever, Rachel hits send and hands Wendy back her phone.

"I sent Missy a text. It has everything I want answered on the application. I refuse to discuss this any further until I have a piece of paper with _every single question_answered about both of you. Understand?"

Figuring Rachel didn't have time to think of _that_many questions, they both nod.

"Good. Now you better get out of here before Santana sees you and decides to put you back in the Halifax Gibbet."

They both nod and Rachel watches them scramble out of the garage.

**…**

"Jeez, what'd you do? _Walk_the kid home?" Santana asks when Rachel exits the house.

"I had an unexpected… delay," Rachel retorts. "Missy and Wendy."

"Seriously?"

"They're quite tenacious," Rachel says.

"Do I even want to know how you got rid of them?" Santana asks.

"I think the more pertinent issue is why is Brittany encouraging them," Rachel replies.

"Say what?"

"Brittany apparently told them that she's in my harem."

Santana just groans. Her best friend sometimes takes messing with people too far.

"Does Britt even know what a harem is?" Mike asks, walking up to Rachel. "And do I even want to know what you're talking about?"

"Mike," Rachel exclaims, giving him a one armed hug. "I thought you weren't going to show up."

"Sorry. We lost track of time."

"Uh huh. Right, Mikey."

"Hey Michelle. Nice to see you again," Rachel greets.

"You too, Rachel."

"Jamieson."

"Lopez."

"Well, this is awkward," Mike says. "I'm going to get a drink. Michelle, want to come with me?"

"No, I'm enjoying the awkward."

"Of course," Mike sighs.

Rachel would rather leave, but she decides she better stay and referee.

"How's your summer been Lopez?"

"Fine. Yours?"

"Great."

"Good."

"Thanks again for inviting me, Rachel," Michelle says. "I was worried I wouldn't see you before I left for school."

"Just promise me you're not just using Mike," Rachel replies.

"We've just been having a very brief summer fling, Rachel, I swear."

"All right then." She turns to Santana. "San, I'm going to go talk to Brittany about, you know. I'm trusting both of you to be civil."

"Of course babe."

"If you say so, Rachel.

**…**

"Holy shit," Puck says as he joins Rachel at the keg. "Are you voluntarily getting yourself a beer?"

"It looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Why?"

"This was a terrible idea, Noah," Rachel replies.

"What are you talking about?" Puck looks around the yard. "I think it's going pretty well." And then he spots Santana and Michelle together. "Huh. Well there is that."

"I'm hoping San is mellow enough that she's able to ignore Michelle's jabs."

"Hey, you're the one that insisted on inviting her," Puck replies.

"Well, it'd be rude to invite Mike and not her."

"Why?" Puck asks. "It's not like they're dating."

"Still."

"Your logic is so weird sometimes, Rach."

**…**

"Are you having a good time?" Quinn asks Alyson.

"I'm with you, aren't I?"

Quinn fights a blush as she glances around making sure no overheard that. "Quiet you."

"You love it."

Quinn smiles shyly and leans in for a kiss. "Are you still spending the night tonight?"

Alyson nods. "My mom still thinks the Fabrays are fine upstanding Christians, despite the divorce and your, uh… So she said it's fine. But I have to be back home at ten, so they can say good bye properly."

"Good."

"And you know I'm not expecting anything right?" Alyson asks. "I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms."

"I know," Quinn replies. "I'm really going to miss you."

"Me too. But remember, we weren't going to talk about it. We're just going to enjoy the day together, right?"

"Right."

**…**

When Missy and Wendy get far enough away from Rachel's, Missy pulls out her phone to see what sort of questions Rachel wants answered. Looking over her unread text messages, Missy sees _ten_text messages all from Wendy.

"So? How bad is it?" Wendy asks.

Missy opens up one and begins scanning.

"Holy shit," Wendy says reading over Missy's shoulder. "How the hell did she come up with all those questions so quickly?"

"It just proves Brittany wasn't lying. These must be questions she asks. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"So?" Wendy says. "We go type it up all nice on your computer and print it out. Maybe if we bring it over before school starts up, it'll give us an edge."

"Hmmm. Maybe."

**…**

When people drunkenly suggest trying out the Halifax Gibbet, Rachel decides the party's over. Though she just had the one beer, she's certainly not in the mood to deal with such a dangerous device at the moment.

Puck is, of course, too drunk to deal with them. As punishment for not dealing with the rowdy rabble, Rachel asks Brittany to take him home.

"Okay Rachel."

"And you can just leave him in the yard or something," Rachel continues. "It's not supposed to rain tonight, I don't think.

"If you say so, Rachel."

"And then later, we're going to talk about you telling people you're in my harem. Right, Britt?"

"But I am, Rachel," Brittany insists. "I would totally sleep with you again if you guys let me."

"Thank you?"

**…**

"I'll email you next week," Rachel tells Alyson.

"Sounds good."

"We'll figure sometime to visit," Rachel continues.

"You're sure?" Alyson asks. "That's a lot to ask of you and Santana."

"I don't think it is," Rachel replies. "Besides, Quinn wouldn't do it by herself and it needs to happen, don't you think?"

"Well, I'd like it to."

"Then it's settled."

Alyson smiles. "You're definitely one of a kind Rachel."

"You better not forget that up there at your fancy college."

**…**

Rachel can't be bothered by the mess that is her backyard. And Santana's tipsy enough to agree.

"You should wake Puckerman up at like six a.m. and make him come over and clean up."

"Oh Noah will be cleaning this up. Just not at six in the morning, because I plan on sleeping in tomorrow."

"Thank god."

**…**

Santana is woken up by Rachel tapping her on the head.

"_What_?"

"Your phone has been ringing for like five minutes straight," Rachel sleepily tells her.

Santana groans, sitting up and looking around for her phone. It's quiet at the moment and she's just about to go back to sleep, when it rings again. Climbing out of bed, she snatches it off Rachel's desk.

"_What_?"

"S, it's me," Quinn says. "I'm outside. Let me in."

"You better have been shot, Fabray," Santana growls, pulling on boxers and a tank top. "Or stabbed. And there better be_a lot_of blood."

Santana turns to tell Rachel that Quinn's here, but her girlfriend has already fallen asleep.

"Figures."

**…**

Santana opens the door, letting Quinn scurry in. They settle in the living room, Quinn taking the couch and Santana stretching out in the recliner.

"What the _fuck_ is so important that you had to show up here at _4 a.m._?"

"I slept with Alyson," Quinn says.

Santana sits there, waiting. "So?"

"I had _sex_with Alyson."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. Again, I say, so?"

"So? I woke up a little bit ago, and we were both still naked and it just sort of hit me. So I got dressed and came here before I completely hyperventilated."

"Wasn't she staying at your house tonight?" Santana asks.

"Yeah."

"So let me get this straight," Santana says. "You and Alyson had sex. In your bed. In your room. At your house. And then fell asleep. And then later when you woke up, you freaked. So you left her. Alone. At your house. So you could drive here. To talk to me."

"That sums it up."

Santana starts laughing. "I can't believe you left her alone at your house."

"Shut up, Santana," Quinn snaps. "I said, I panicked, okay?"

"I hate to say it, but Rachel might be better qualified to-"

"I don't want to talk to Berry about this," Quinn hisses.

"Well she's better at this feelings shit than I am."

"Maybe I don't want sensitivity," Quinn replies.

"Well then, here's my advice," Santana says. "Get over it. You like Alyson. She seems to care about you."

"I know."

"Do you feel like she pressured you?" Santana questions.

"No."

"Was it good?"

"Very good," Quinn nods.

"Well then there shouldn't be a problem," Santana says. "Yeah, long distance sucks, but you know Rach and I would totally drive up there with you and then disappear, so it's not like you'll never see her."

"Yeah."

"And she has her own car, so she could totally come here," Santana continues.

"I know."

"Rach even said Alyson could stay here if she needs a place to stay."

"_I know_."

"Then explain to me what the problem is," Santana huffs.

Quinn has been sitting cross legged on the couch, looking at her lap. She finally looks up at Santana, tears shining faintly in her eyes. "I'm gay, San."

Santana tries not to feel completely exasperated. "I thought we already knew that, Q."

"There was still this little part of me that thought maybe I wasn't. That when I actually… you know, it would totally freak me out and then I would see that I'm not."

Santana sighs. "I take it, that it didn't happen that way."

Quinn shakes her head vigorously. "It wasn't scary like I thought. It was… amazing."

Santana hides her smirk. "Yeah it is."

"And then we fell asleep, cuddled together," Quinn continues. "And it just felt… right." Quinn sighs. "I am so gay."

"Yeah. You are."

"I know I am."

"You feel any better about it?" Santana asks.

"A little."

"It'll get easier, Q," Santana tells her. "I swear."

"If you say so." Quinn is quiet for so long that Santana feels herself falling asleep. "I think I might be in love with her S," Quinn says so quietly that Santana almost misses it. "Or at least falling fast."

"Huh," Santana says. "That's… unexpected."

Quinn nods. "I feel like I'm drowning."

"You sort of are."

"It's terrifying," Quinn continues.

"I know."

"I don't know if I can do it."

"It's gonna happen no matter what, Q."

"And it's a good thing. Right?"

"It is."

"Thanks, I guess."

"I'd let you stay," Santana says. "But you should probably get back to Alyson, don't you think?"

Quinn looks self-conscious. "Yeah."

"Talk to her," Santana tells her.

"It's embarrassing," Quinn replies quietly.

"Yeah. A little, but she'll understand and you don't want her to think it's something that _she_did. Or that it's her."

"No."

"Then you need to talk to her."

"She leaves tomorrow."

"You can still take twenty minutes to explain, Q," Santana replies.

"Okay."

"You better," Santana says. "Or I'll sic Rach on you."

"You wouldn't," Quinn replies.

"Not only does she care about you, but she's friends with Alyson too," Santana informs her. "Plus, she still hangs out with Alyson's little sister, sometimes, you know."

"When does she sleep?" Quinn asks. "Between all her lessons, _you_, building that monstrosity; when does she find time to sleep?"

Santana shrugs. "It's just one of those things."

**…**

No longer freaking out, Quinn feels a bit stupid driving home at 4:30 a.m. in her pajamas. But Santana did make her feel better, so she supposes it was worth it.

She opens her bedroom door as quietly as possible, but it doesn't really matter since Alyson is sitting up in bed, waiting.

"Oh. Hi," Quinn says quietly.

"Are you okay?" Alyson asks.

Quinn nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It can wait till morning," Quinn answers.

"Obviously not, since you drove into the night," Alyson replies.

"Sorry if I woke you."

"It's fine," Alyson says. "I was worried about you." Alyson pats the bed next to her. "I didn't mean to pressure you tonight."

Quinn slips back under the covers. "You didn't. I wanted to. I thought I was ready. But when I woke up earlier, I felt like I couldn't breathe, so I drove over to Berry's to talk to Santana."

"Uh huh. Did it help?"

Quinn nods. "She help put things in perspective."

"That's good," Alyson says.

"And I'm sorry I made you think you pressured me. I was hoping you would just sleep through it."

"I've always been a light sleeper," Alyson volunteers.

Quinn lays down, pulling Alyson with her, so she can curl into her side and place her head on her shoulder. Despite being taller, Quinn still ends up being the little spoon most of the time; she finds she doesn't mind.

"I just got overwhelmed," Quinn explains, finding it easier to talk without direct eye contact. "I mean, I was in love with Finn, but it never felt like this."

"Like what?"

"Like everything's better when you're around; like I want to be better person, that person _you_see that makes you smile that adorably happy smile of yours."

"Adorably happy?"

Quinn half shrugs, arms still wrapped around Alyson. "It's how I see it."

"Yeah, well, just don't Josh," Alyson says, closing her eyes. "He'll never let me hear the end of it."

**…**

"Who were you talking to?" Rachel asks Santana as she slides back into bed.

"Quinn," Santana replies. "She drove over here to talk to me because she was freaking about sleeping with Alyson."

"Oh. _Oh_."

"Uh huh."

"Please tell me you weren't too mean," Rachel says.

"I was honest," Santana replies.

Rachel sighs. "Did it help?"

"I think so," Santana says.

"Wait a minute," Rachel says, waking up a bit. "Did she leave Alyson alone in bed at her house?"

"Yes," Santana chuckles.

"She must have really been freaking out."

"Yeah, well, maybe that's she's accepted that she likes clam jousting, she can relax a bit."

"_Santana_. Must you?"

"Yes I must."

**…**

Things are less awkward than Quinn expected when she wakes up. She's now laying fully atop Alyson, who has her arms wrapped tightly around her. Quinn feels safe. It's nice.

But then reality comes crashing in and Quinn remembers that Alyson has to leave in a few hours. Glancing over at her clock, she's surprised to see that it's only eight. She wonders if it'd be horrible to wake Alyson up, so they could spend another couple hours together.

"Hey baby," Alyson whispers.

"Morning," Quinn says shyly.

"What time is it?"

"8:05."

"Good."

"Good?"

"That means I get two more hours of you."

Quinn smiles. "Oh?"

Alyson nods. "I don't suppose I could get a good morning kiss."

"Morning breath."

"Don't care."

Quinn can't keep the smile off her face as she leans in for a kiss. It's brief and rather chaste, but it has her grinning widely.

"Why are you so smiley?"Alyson asks.

"Because I got to wake up with you."

The smile that spreads across Alyson's face is so full of simple joy that Quinn actually feels her heart clench. Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach trying to tell her something, Quinn leans in for another kiss.

**…**

Around nine in the morning, Rachel is woken up by her cell phone. Finding it on the floor by her bed, she reaches down to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Uh, Rach?"

"Yes, Noah?"

"Why am I sleeping outside in my front yard?"

"Because the driveway would be very uncomfortable?"

"I'm serious, bro," Puck says.

"Because you were practically comatose and no one wanted to risk waking up your mom and sister," Rachel explains. "We figured you'd wake up in a couple hours and drag yourself inside. But if you just woke up… You seriously broke your promise to me, Noah."

"What? No I didn't," he replies. "I said I'll be over some time today to clean up and I will. It's only like nine. I didn't plan on being over there until noon at least."

"I meant, yesterday," Rachel says. "You were going to keep people from being rowdy drunks, but by the time that happened, you were highly intoxicated."

"Okay, I admit I got carried away a bit," Puck admits. "I apologize. I really didn't think I drank that much."

"Well the keg is bone dry, so you guys must've drank plenty."

"I'm sorry, Rach. Really."

"I'm still tired, Noah," Rachel says. "We'll talk when you stop by later to clean up. Okay?"

"Okay. Bye Rach."

**…**

"What are you so smiley about?" Alyson asks Quinn as she looks around for her shirt.

"Besides the obvious?" Quinn asks, pointing to their state of undress.

Alyson nods.

"I didn't freak," Quinn says. "I was kind of worried I would. And this time was even better than last night."

Alyson smirks.

"I feel kind of torn," Quinn continues.

"How come?"

"You're leaving, which makes me sad," Quinn answers. "But I know I'll _never_forget the last twenty-four hours."

"I won't either," Alyson says. "You've helped make this summer amazing, Quinn."

"You too."

"I don't want you to go," Quinn says.

"I wish I could stay too."

"You'll call me tonight?"

Alyson nods. "We're talking every day. I want to know how your first day of senior year goes."

"Same here."

They've already decided to not draw out the good byes, so Alyson pulls Quinn into a tight hug before kissing her softly. Quinn then walks her to the door. They kiss again; this time it's full of sweetness and longing.

"Bye Aly."

"Later, Quinn."

**…**

Rachel waits impatiently for Santana. Since they couldn't convince Santana's parents to let her spend Sunday night at Rachel's, they decided that Rachel should just stay at her house because it'd be easier for Santana to sneak out on her own. She's got everything in her car that they need, but Santana's late. Rachel is starting to worry that she got caught.

Santana shows up a couple minutes later on a bike.

"Sorry babe," she huffs. "Couldn't take my car, so I figured this is the next best thing."

"It's all right," Rachel replies. "I was just getting worried."

They climb into Rachel's car and drive to McKinley.

In the parking lot, Rachel pulls as close to the gym door as possible. She goes to pick the lock while Santana starts unloading cooler after cooler.

"This car hold more than you'd think," Santana remarks when she's got all eight out. She snatches the duffel bag out of the front seat and slips it over her shoulder.

They quickly pull them all inside and let the door whish close behind them.

It takes a bit of effort, but they manage to drag all eight coolers to the maintenance closet. Santana hands Rachel the duffel bag. She watches her pull out a wrench and some other tools and then disappear into the closet. There's some clanking and some faint grumbling and then the sound of water. And then Rachel appears again with a hose and a funnel.

Between the two of them they manage to lift one cooler onto another, so the funnel can be placed under the spout in the cooler. Opening it allows grape slushie to flow out and into the funnel.

"How the hell did you get the schematics of McKinley's fire sprinklers?"

"City hall," Rachel replies.

"Huh."

They empty all eight coolers and it's time consuming. Santana is less impressed with gravity than usual since it's not helping the slushie exit the coolers faster. They then rinse the coolers out, which goes a bit faster and put them near the gym door.

Next, they find everyone in glee's locker, including their own, along with a few others and place a full rain gear ensemble in it with a note that says, _10:47 A.M. The weather man predicts slushie. _

"That's almost clever, babe," Santana says as she closes her locker.

"Thanks," Rachel replies, dryly. "Like you thought of anything better."

"I didn't have to, you said you'd take care of the raincoats and I'd get the coolers."

"And did I criticize the job _you_did?"

"No, because I'm awesome," Santana retorts.

"Or I don't want to listen to you whine," Rachel mutters.

**…**

"This is going to be a good year," Santana says as Rachel drives away from McKinley.

"What makes you say that?"

"We still have one more day of freedom. Me and my girl just set up an awesome prank for the first day and I already have an idea what we should do next."

"Already?"

Santana nods and then realizes Rachel isn't really looking at her. "Yeah I do."

"Well?"

"Later. Let's just enjoy the awesomeness of this one."

"Whatever you say San."


	29. Should We Duck and Cover?

**Chapter Title:** Should We Duck and Cover?  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Wendy, Missy, Brittany, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Sue, Emma, Will, Puck, Figgins, Becky  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The new year has just begun and there are already rumors flying and pranks happening.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~8,225  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Previous stories in this series.  
><strong>AN:** Sorry this took so long; apparently my job gives me writer's block ONLY for this series. Thanks to JPEles for reminding me we have yet to see a duet. Song is "Give It Up" by Elizabeth Gillies & Ardiana Grande. Other song is "Broken Glass" by Matt Bennett**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Despite the anticipation of how the prank will play out, Santana is mostly excited that she only has nine more months of torture left and then she'll be <em>so <em>close to escaping this hell hole.

She can tell Rachel feels the same way when she picks her up for the first day of senior year. They share a smile as Santana leans in for a kiss.

"Are you ready for this year?" Rachel asks once Santana starts driving.

"Of course," Santana replies. "Already caused a bit of chaos, even if it hasn't happened yet."

"I'm looking forward to it as well," Rachel says. She looks briefly at her lap.

"You shouldn't feel bad about it, babe," Santana tells her. "That school, myself included," she adds to herself. "Deserve it and worse for what they've put you through."

"Maybe…"

"You're Rachel fucking Berry," Santana continues. "And you don't need to apologize to anyone about anything you do. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good."

**…**

Kurt's having the strangest morning and he's only been inside McKinley for fifteen minutes. First, when he arrived and opened his locker, he was surprised to find something already inside. It's a raincoat, hat and umbrella with a note. It seems the prankster is striking today.

He shakes his head. Who does Santana think she's fooling?

He's in the middle of deciding whether or not to wear the hat when he's startled by Mercedes seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Kurt!"

"I'm standing right in front of you, there's not need to shout," he retorts.

"You will not believe what I just heard floating around the halls," she says, ignoring his attitude.

"Probably not."

"There are two Cheerios claiming they're sleeping with Rachel."

"Rachel Berry?"

"Yes."

"Glee club captain, argyle wearing Rachel Berry?"

"Yes."

"Pinch me," Kurt says.

"What?"

"I have to be dreaming," Kurt continues. "It's the only explanation. I mean, the school year _just_started and I'm already weirded out."

"I know what you mean."

"Which two Cheerios?" Kurt asks.

"I don't know their names," Mercedes replies. "Those two that are like Coach Sylvester's messengers. I don't think they ever go to class, just wander the halls, doing whatever Coach wants."

"Hmmm."

"What? You believe them?" Mercedes asks.

"Well, it has to be," Kurt replies. "Otherwise, why would they risk Santana's wrath? No one would be able to find the bodies."

"So does that mean Santana and Rachel broke up?" Mercedes asks. "Because Santana's going to be a complete _bitch_this year if that's true. Probably worse than before."

"You think that's why she's slushing the whole school today?" Kurt questions, gesturing to the rain gear and note in his locker.

"It might not be Santana, you know," Mercedes tells him. "There _are_other cunning people in this school."

"There are," Kurt agrees. "But how many would warn glee club members? Very few."

"I suppose that's a good point." Mercedes looks around the hallway. "Maybe we should find Rachel and find out."

"I suppose going to the source seems the easiest."

"Are you going to bring up the prankster?"

"Doubtful," Kurt answers. "I've already had that conversation with Rachel. Not helpful."

**…**

Used to being looked at as an oddity, Rachel doesn't give any attention to all the strange looks she's been getting as she walks to her locker. However, it feels like _everyone's_ eyes are on her and it's making her a bit twitchy. If she at least knew_why_everyone was staring, it would probably help a bit.

Opening her locker, Rachel grabs the note and reads it before grabbing her books. Thinking over her schedule, she wonders if she has enough time to come back for the raincoat. She'd really rather not drag it around all morning.

"Rachel!"

"Hello, Mercedes, Kurt," she replies, head still in her locker.

"We need to talk to you."

"So I gathered." She turns to face them. "What's up?"

"Um…"

"Did you and Santana break up?" Kurt asks.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Uh…"

"Because there's talk in the halls that you're doing two Cheerios," Kurt says.

"_Really_? Which two?"

**…**

Emma has been staring at the raincoat and umbrella that was left on her desk for her to find. Both the umbrella and the coat are still in its original packing, though there was a note attached that says, _10:47 a.m._

She's torn. As a member of the faculty, she knows it's her job to report any suspicious activity to the administration. However, she has no idea what is going to happen at 10:47, only that _some_thing is and that it's probably going to involve liquids. She could assume that Will will go to Figgins with a warning, but he might be assuming the same thing about her.

Emma stares at the umbrella in thought.

**…**

"You know Santana's going to destroy you," Rachel says when she finds Missy and Wendy.

Rachel can't figure out why they were hiding in the girls locker room.

"You shouldn't have rejected us," Missy retorts.

"I didn't find your applications satisfactory," Rachel replies.

"Oh please," Missy says. "You barely looked at them. We put real effort into them."

"I don't know why," Rachel tells her. "Did you really think I'd suddenly change my mind after all this time?"

"Isn't that why you gave us the application?" Wendy asks.

"_No_," Rachel replies. "I gave it to you in hopes that its length would put you off."

"Oh."

"That's kind of shitty of you," Missy says.

"I could argue the same about your inability to understand that no means no," Rachel counters.

"It's your fault for being such a tease," Missy retorts.

"_That _is not a legitimate argument," Rachel replies. "That means a girl deserves to be raped for wearing a short skirt."

"That's hardly the same thing," Wendy says. "We're just requesting sex. Not demanding it. Or worse, taking it."

"Besides," Missy interjects. "You kissed us back. You led us on."

"Once stolen kiss—"

"Two technically," Wendy interrupts.

"Fine. _Two_stolen kisses while extremely inebriated hardly constitutes leading you two on. Especially since I declined your advances once I had a moment to breath and think."

"You want us," Missy replies. "We _felt_it."

"I'm not denying your desirability," Rachel tells them. "But I'm not going to engage in any sort of sexual activities with either of you."

"That's Santana talking," Missy retorts.

Rachel sighs. "So there's nothing I can say that will make you two back off?"

"Nope."

"Because Santana isn't happy about this situation."

"I'm sure she's not," Missy smiles smugly.

"And since you won't listen to reason," Rachel says. "I'm going to step aside."

"What does that mean?" Wendy asks.

"It means all this has kicked up Santana's possessive mode," Rachel explains. "And if you won't back off, anything she did to you during Cheerios' practice will feel like a gift."

"You don't know that."

"I know it more than you do," Rachel retorts. And then smirks. "But I suppose you wouldn't know that. Would you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Missy asks suspiciously.

"Ask around," Rachel tells them. "Consider it your warning." Rachel then spins on her heel and walks away, leaving them staring confused after her.

**…**

Watching Rachel stalk away to apparently confront the two gossiping Cheerios, Kurt isn't quite sure what's going on. Rachel never denied the claim, instead saying the two shouldn't be running their mouths like that. It almost makes him think that Rachel really did-no, there's no way Rachel would cheat on Santana. That would be suicidal.

"Unless they broke up," Mercedes says.

Apparently, she'd been thinking the same things he had about Rachel's reaction.

"This doesn't bode well for the rest of the year," Kurt observes.

Mercedes nods in agreement.

**…**

Watching students scurrying through the halls, Figgins prays that the Prankster graduated and that it'll be a chaos free school year. He desperately misses those.

He also has a contingency plan if the Prankster did not, in fact, graduate. It took most of the summer and he's ashamed to admit, he thought more than once to himself, what would Sue do in this situation? Still, he thinks that line of thought helped. He feels confident about his plan.

Now it's just playing the waiting game.

**…**

At exactly 10:47 a.m. the sprinklers go off. 99.7% of the school is drenched with grape slushie; 0.3% stays dry. Finn Hudson is in the 99.7% category and Santana has never been more pleased to share a class with the Neanderthal. She's ridiculously glad that Rachel had her put the rain gear in their fellow glee clubbers' lockers because it meant she could "forget" Finbecile's and Rachel might not find out.

But looking around the room, Santana has a growing suspicious why Rachel made such an agreement. It might be so she could hand out a few more umbrellas. Rachel's playing a dangerous game, Santana thinks as she stares at Tom Mercer's neon green umbrella. People might start to notice a pattern.

Maybe their next prank should be on the roof of the school again. It's only the first day, but Santana could definitely use a day off soon. She wants to be here even less than she did last year.

**…**

Lazily stretched out under the golf umbrella she was left, Sue watches the hallway get sprayed with slushie. She wonders how long the shower will last. But what she's really curious about is who else received protection. She hopes Becky continues to receive it; Sue doubts Berry would suddenly stop. No, what Sue really hopes is that Will didn't. It would serve him right and no one would blame Berry if she stopped protecting that noodle head.

Smiling to herself, Sue can't help but feel that this is going to be an excellent year.

**…**

Neither Rachel or Santana show up at lunch. Feeling confident he knows who the prankster is, Kurt is more concerned about the break up or more specifically how it's going to affect the rest of them.

"People break up all the time," Mercedes tells him. "You really should stop obsessing."

"Like you're not curious," he retorts.

"Of course I am," she replies. "But I'm not the one frantically scanning the lunch room for them."

"Do we even know for sure that they broke up?" Tina asks.

"Technically no," Mercedes replies.

"Then where are they?" Kurt asks. "I was so sure we'd have to listen to a Rachel Berry tirade about this being our last year."

"Maybe they're busy," Tina suggests.

"Or they're both avoiding lunch, so they don't have to see each other," Kurt counters.

"Seriously?" Mercedes asks. "I don't think they broke up, Kurt."

"She didn't deny sleeping with those Cheerios," Kurt points out.

"Maybe she was too angry and distracted," Artie suggests.

"Or maybe she didn't think she had to deny it," Tina adds. "It sounds very un-Rachel like."

"What about that rumor last year about her, Santana, Brittany and Puck?" Mercedes asks.

"Or the one about her, Santana, Brittany and _Quinn_?" Kurt throws out.

"Do you two really believe those rumors?" Tina asks. "Because I'm not sure that I do."

"I just can't figure out why they would start that rumor if it wasn't true," Kurt says. "Because Santana is probably going to throw them off the top of the pyramid."

"Rachel wouldn't let her," Artie protests.

"She might if she's upset enough about the rumor," Kurt insists.

"I don't know," Artie continues. "I saw Rachel interacting with the Cheerios this summer. I think she might actually like them. Besides, isn't Rachel anti violence?"

"People change," Kurt shrugs.

"You need to make up your mind, Kurt," Tina says. "Either Rachel's changed or she hasn't."

"We have glee this afternoon," Mercedes says. "We should be able to figure it out this afternoon."

**…**

Emma hopes no one notices that she didn't have to change her clothes. Everyone else is complaining about the torrent of slushie that happened earlier and having witnessed it, Emma's never felt luckier in her life because she knows how freaked out she would have been without the warning. She wonders how Will dealt with explaining why he was wearing a raincoat. At least she was in her office and was slightly less conspicuous.

Will joins her a few moments later and Emma can't help but notice his hair is wet and he's wearing different clothes.

"I didn't expect you to still be here," he tells her.

"Oh?"

"I would have thought you'd be at home, double checking that all the dried sugar water was cleaned off."

"Really? Why?"

"Well we didn't get a warning this time," Will replies. "It's weird. New year, new rules, maybe?"

Emma feels guilty now. "Oh."

"And you're amazingly calm," Will continues. "More so than I expected. And you're still wearing the same clothes you were wearing earlier… Did you get a warning?"

Emma nods.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it," Emma says. "I just assumed you received one as well. Plus the first day back is always so hectic."

"No, it's fine," Will say. "I was just so sure it was Santana."

"Why must you always assume the worst about my girls, William?" Sue asks, plopping down next to Emma.

"Experience."

"I see you're still impeccably dry, Myrna," Sue says, turning to Emma. "Maybe broadcasting your personal inadequacies has its benefits."

"I suppose you were warned," Will says.

"I was indeed, Willster," Sue replies. "I was given a very nice large red and white umbrella. What about you, Emily? Did you get an umbrella?"

"Uh, no," Emma says. "I was given rain gear."

"I'm surprised you put it on."

"It was still in its original packaging and came with a container of disinfecting wipes," Emma explains.

"Wow, you must feel pretty special," Sue smirks. "And you, Willy? I see your hair has that fresh wash look instead of its usual overkill of gel. Seems that someone's become less special this year."

Will growls under his breath, not really having a response.

"It seems you better watch yourself this year, _Will_," Sue continues. "You're no longer the golden boy."

"Sue, is that really necessary?" Emma asks quietly.

"It is, Thelma," Sue replies. "Wilson here needs reality to be shoved in his face. Otherwise, he remains obvious to it. We've seen it before."

"Sue…" Will warns.

"I see my work here is done," Sue says, standing. "Elise. William."

Emma watches Sue walk out, wondering if her being warned really does mean the prankster is Santana. If so, she can't imagine why Santana would warn _Emma_of all people. She says as much to Will.

"Maybe dating Rachel has turned her into a softie," Will says, shrugging.

"Or maybe it's not Santana," Emma points out.

"Maybe…" Will replies, thinking.

**…**

"We could be having sex right now," Santana tells Rachel.

"I just want to rehearse it one more time," Rachel replies.

When Rachel had dragged Santana through the halls, Santana had assumed it was for sex. She hadn't expected to be dragged into the auditorium to rehearse one last time. In hindsight, she probably should have. The triumphant of the morning must be clogging her brain.

"Babe, we're done it like twenty times," Santana says. "It'll be great. Between my perfect song choice and your awesome talent, we'll kick ass. Like always."

"Flattery will not change my mind, Santana."

"But it's the first day of our senior year, babe," Santana protests. "We should be celebrating."

"Is sex the only thing you think about?"

"No. But when I'm standing in front of my hot girlfriend, wearing an indecently short skirt, it's hard not to."

"I wouldn't call it _indecently_short," Rachel replies. "Just short."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say babe."

"Can we just run through the song one more time?" Rachel asks.

"Why? We know it. It'll be awesome."

"Santana please."

"But why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Are you really this obtuse?" Rachel asks, obviously exasperated. "Or is this _your_attempt at foreplay?"

"Uh, what?"

"Just think for a minute, tiger," Rachel says. "What do I always say?"

"To stop swearing so much."

"Besides that."

Santana pauses to think. Because honestly, Rachel says a lot of things about a variety of topics. And Santana's not quite sure where her girlfriend is going with her question. "I don't know."

Rachel sighs. "My hope for this lunch hour was that we'd run through the song once, nail it and then I'd get to nail you."

Santana can only stare. She certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"I mean, I've been wanting to do a duet with you for so long and the fact that you _knew_ that and picked one out… Every time we sing it, it takes every ounce of self control not to grab you and slam you against a wall. Since that probably wouldn't be appropriate this afternoon, I'd thought we'd practice and then do it. And then hopefully this afternoon once glee is done, you'll drive me home and we can _celebrate_our first duet together."

"Oh." Santana kind of feels like a douchebag. "Okay then."

**…**

Once the final bell rang, Will finds himself still sitting at his desk. He's been thinking about what he learned at lunch. He, oddly, hadn't been all that surprised when the sprinklers went off spraying everyone with grape slushie. He was, however, surprised that it hadn't just been aimed at him. It was the prankster, everyone knows that. However, the choice of grape flavor caught Will's attention.

Grape was always the flavor Will was subjected to the year before when he was getting daily surprise slushie hits. Adding in the rather ingenious ways he's been attacked, makes Will wonder if his mystery slushie-er is the same person as the prankster.

Except he was so _sure_ that the prankster was Santana. She's really the only glee clubber with the right mix of Puck's delinquency and Rachel's strategizing to pull it all off. Especially when _only_his kids have been receiving warnings; it has to be someone in glee club. And knowing Sue's receiving a heads up certainly adds to the evidence.

Will's hesitation comes from his lack of warning this morning. Does this mean, the prankster is no longer going to look out for him? Why? What's different? And does this change mean he was wrong about the culprit or did _something_ happen to change the prankster's mind. He hopes it's the former because otherwise, he's not sure how he's supposed to react to Santana, especially if she has an agenda against him. With Sue's backing, he knows he'll never win _that_battle.

The entrance of an exuberant Rachel puts an end to that line of thinking.

**…**

Kurt and Mercedes are the first to arrive for glee that afternoon. They don't want to miss anyone's entrance. There might be clues.

Santana arrives with Brittany and Quinn trailing behind them. They sit in back. She doesn't seem upset to Kurt, but he knows she sure as hell wouldn't show weakness if she could help it. He watches Brittany for clues. She's the one that usually shows the Cheerios' hand.

"Looks normal to me," Mercedes whispers to Kurt.

"Maybe Rachel will be more telling," Kurt replies.

**…**

Rachel is last to arrive. She enters, talking up a storm to Mr. Schue, a stack of papers in her hands. Nothing different there; though Rachel plopping down next to Mike is a bit odd.

After Mr. Schue welcomes everyone back and lays out his plan to take it all this year, he asks if anyone has anything they want to share.

To no one's surprise, Rachel jumps up. Knowing it's easier, Mr. Schue takes a seat and lets Rachel have the floor.

"Hello my fellow glee clubbers. Since this is our first meeting back, I thought it'd be nice if we just had a little fun and ease into this year. And for that reason, _Santana_and I have prepared a song."

Everyone watches as Santana stands and joins Rachel in the front of the room. Rachel then nods to the band and everyone is surprised when the music sounds more electro pop than Broadway.

They start out facing the wall. Santana spins and starts singing first, which further surprises almost everyone in the room.

_Someday I'll let you in  
>Treat you right<br>Drive you out of your mind_

Santana steps aside as Rachel spins around and begins singing.

_You never met a chick like me__  
>Burn so bright<em>_  
>I'm gonna make you blind<em>

They step towards each other, facing as they begin singing together.

_Always wanting what you can't have__  
>Acting so bad<br>If you don't get what you wanted_

Make you feel good  
>As I'm with you<br>Wanna shape you boy

_Let's get it started_

Give it up  
>You can't win<br>Cause I know Where you've been  
>Such a shame<br>You don't put up a fight  
>That's the game<p>

_That we play  
>At the end of the night<br>It's the same old story__  
>But you never get it right<em>_  
>Give it up<em>

Come a little closer, baby, baby  
>Come a little closer<br>Come a little closer, baby, baby

Santana steps away and sings to the audience.

_So stop trying to walk away  
>No you won't ever leave me behind<em>

She sashays to the right as Rachel steps up.

_No!  
>You better believe that I'm here to stay<em>

That's Right

Santana throws over her shoulder as Rachel continues.

_Cause you're the shade and I'm the sunshine  
>Oh!<em>

They're back facing each other as they sing.

_Look at me boy cause I got you  
>Where I want you<br>Isn't it so exciting__  
>Wanna shake you<em>_  
>Wanna break you<em>_  
>Take a backseat boy<br>Cause now I'm driving_

_Give it up_  
><em>You can't win<em>  
><em>Cause I know<em>  
><em>Where you've been<em>  
><em>Such a shame<em>  
><em>You don't put up a fight<em>  
><em>That's the game<em>

_That we play  
>At the end of the night<br>It's the same old story__  
>But you never get it right<em>_  
>Give it up!<br>yeah yeah yeah yeah oh_

_Come a little closer_  
><em>come a little closer baby, baby<em>

_Come a little closer_  
><em>come a little closer baby, baby<em>  
><em>come a little closer, baby<em>

_Cause you are my baby and I'll make you crazy tonight!_

_Look at me boy cause I got you_  
><em>Where I want you<em>  
><em>Isn't it so exciting<em>

_Wanna shake you__  
>Wanna break you<em>_  
>Take a backseat boy<br>Cause now I'm driving_

_Give it up_  
><em>You can't win<em>  
><em>Cause I know<em>  
><em>Where you've been<em>  
><em>Such a shame<em>  
><em>You don't put up a fight<em>  
><em>That's the game<em>

_That we play  
>At the end of the night<br>It's the same old story__  
>But you never get it right<em>_  
>Give it up yeah!<em>

Rachel gives a little bow once the music stops. Santana just grabs Rachel's arm and pulls her in for a quick kiss. There's a long moment of silence until Mike begins clapping. Puck and Brittany quickly join in, Puck even going as far to whistle. And then the whole group is clapping.

"Oh wow, guys," Mr. Schue says, standing. "That was awesome. You guys sound incredible together."

"Naturally," Santana smiles.

Both return to their separate seats, drawing odd looks from everyone, but no one comments.

"Anyone else have something they want to share?" Mr. Schue asks. "Even if it's just for fun? C'mon guys. Let's get this year started out right."

"Well if it's just for fun," Puck says, raising his hand. "Then I have something."

"Really?" Mr. Schue's surprise is obvious. "Okay, Puck, the floor is yours." Mr. Schue sits.

Puck stands, grabs a guitar from the corner and sits on a stool.

"I found this online one night this summer when I was wast—I mean, really bored and thought it'd be fun to learn." Puck begins strumming the guitar.

_It's fun to run, it's fun to play,  
>It's fun to make things out of clay,<br>It's fun to fill your car with gas,  
>It's fun to break... things made of glass!<em>

Everyone just stares at Puck in confusion as he sings. Santana, however, is chuckling loudly.

_It's fun to spray yourself with Mace  
>It's fun to squeeze your mothers face<br>It's fun to mow your daddies Grass  
>It's fun to break... things made of glass<em>

Santana is now out right laughing.

_But broken glass can cut your hand,  
>And then you'll bleed across the land,<br>Ask any woman, child or man,  
>About the dangers<br>Of broken glass...  
>Broken Glass...<em>

_I like nice girls with gum disease_  
><em>I like to tickle peoples knees<em>  
><em>Don't tell me no just tell me yes<em>  
><em>And then we'll break... things made of glass<em>

_Sometimes I put on special pants_  
><em>And then I board a plane to France<em>  
><em>When I arrive I start to dance<em>  
><em>And then I break...things made of glass<em>

Yeah I know that dance doesn't rhyme with glass  
>So what're ya gonna do about it, huh?<p>

_But broken glass will tell you lies  
>Bleed your soul and blind your eyes<br>Like a demon with a side of fries  
>You better be aware... of broken glass<br>Of broken glass_

Guitar solo!

_Mmmm, children that glass sure does look delicious, doesn't it?_  
><em>But you can't eat it.<em>  
><em>Cause broken glass is not a food,<em>  
><em>So don't you listen to some dude,<em>  
><em>Who says put cheese on broken glass,<em>  
><em>And make a sand-a-wich!<em>  
><em>Out of broken glass...<em>

_Let's sing a song about broken glass,_  
><em>I'll help you write it after class,<em>  
><em>There is no song that can surpass<em>  
><em>The song we sing,<em>

About broken glass...

Santana jumps up, clapping enthusiastically, while everyone else half-heartedly claps.

Puck just shrugs and returns the guitar to the corner before sitting back down.

"That was very interesting, Puck," Mr. Schue says eventually.

Puck shrugs again. "You said whatever I wanted."

"I guess I did."

"Okay, then. Anyone else?" Mr. Schue asks.

**…**

Tuesday morning, Kurt and Mercedes plant themselves next to Tina's locker because it gives them a clear shot of Rachel's.

"Don't you think staring is going to make it worse?" Tina asks.

"We need to be prepared for the worst," Kurt replies.

"Yeah, we need to know when to duck and cover," Mercedes adds.

"Besides," Kurt continues. "You heard them yesterday. It has to be bad if they're singing their feelings in glee. They've never done that before."

"What feelings?" Tina asks.

"That was a pretty aggressive song, don't you think?" Kurt speculates. "And the way they pretty much just sang to each other? They're seriously fighting."

"Maybe they really did break up," Mercedes thinks out loud. "I mean, I admit I kinda had my doubts, but after that song, I don't know."

"Or maybe they just liked the song," Tina tries.

"Like Rachel would ever pick that song," Kurt scoffs.

"What about Santana?" Tina questions.

"You really think she cares enough?" Mercedes asks.

"She cares about Rachel," Tina replies.

"She'd have to, to put up with her for so long," Kurt says.

"I still don't think there's anything wrong," Tina tells them.

"Which is why we're here, waiting and watching," Kurt replies.

Tina just shakes her head at them both.

**…**

Missy and Wendy are waiting for Rachel at her locker. She does her best to look intimidating, but Rachel's pretty sure she's not succeeding.

"Missy. Wendy." Rachel opens her locker, avoiding eye contact.

"_Hi Rachel_," they greet.

"We wanted to make one more plea," Missy says. "If you'd just look at our application—"

"Missy, I told you that I just made that up. It holds no value or importance to me," Rachel replies.

"But maybe our answers will change your mind," Wendy tries.

"I doubt it," Rachel retorts. "I don't cheat."

"We'd get you permission," Missy says.

"I sincerely doubt that," Rachel replies. "San despises you because of this, so I don't think she'd give me permission to engage in a threesome with you."

"She might," Missy tries, sounding sullen.

"Have you guys done what I said to? Ask around about Santana?"

"No. Why should we?" Wendy asks.

"You might want to," Rachel tells them as she shuts her locker. "If you still want to go up against her after that, well then, don't say I didn't warn you."

**…**

From the looks of it, the two waiting Cheerios are having a rather intense conversation with Rachel. Kurt's curiosity is off the charts.

"_See_," he says to Tina. "It's all falling into place."

"For you, maybe," she retorts.

Watching Rachel saunter away, Kurt sees his chance. "C'mon."

"I don't care," Tina tries as Kurt literally drags her along with him and Mercedes.

"Uh, hi," Mercedes says. "We wanted to ask you guys something."

"Yeah?" the blonde asks.

"What's up with you guys and Rachel?" Kurt asks.

"She wouldn't accept our application to be part of her harem," Wendy explains.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Kurt asks, flabbergasted.

"We told Rachel we wanted to be members of her harem," Missy tells them. "We even filled out the application she gave us. But she still rejected us."

"Too much. Brain overload," Kurt mumbles to himself.

"Rachel has a harem?" Tina asks.

The red head nods. "I know. Right? She didn't even give us a chance, either."

"She actually gave you an application?" Mercedes questions.

Both nod rather enthusiastically.

"And now she won't even _look_at it," the redhead says. "Are we so horrible?"

"Uh… I don't know," Kurt says.

"You guys are in glee with Rachel, right?" the blonde asks.

"Yeah," Tina nods. "Why?"

"How afraid of Santana should we be?"

"Very," Tina replies.

"Really?" the redhead questions. "She doesn't seem so bad."

"You never witnessed her glory days," Kurt replies, wryly. "She was… a force to be reckoned with."

"She and Quinn and Brittany strolled down the halls like this was their kingdom," Mercedes adds.

"It kinda was," Tina says.

"They weren't called The Unholy Trinity for nothing," Kurt says.

"Seriously?" the blonde asks, disbelief written on her face.

"Thankfully their reign of terror ended the year before last," Mercedes says.

"So should we be concerned about Santana's retaliation?" the redhead asks.

"You'd be stupid not to," Kurt retorts. "Going after Rachel, especially considering, is like putting a giant bulls eye on yourselves."

"You're either very brave or really dumb," Mercedes adds.

"Especially considering what?" the blonde asks as the bell rings.

"Thanks for the info, guys," Kurt says as they dash down the hall.

Missy and Wendy are left staring after them.

**…**

"Sue it has come to my attention that you were warned about the school wide slushie attack yesterday," Figgins says.

"What of it?"

"Do you know who the prankster is?" Figgins asks.

"Why would you ask me that?" Sue questions back.

"Because you were warned," Figgins answers. "Even if you don't know exactly who it is, you must have some idea."

Sue is quiet for a moment. "Say that's true. Hypothetically. If I read you correctly, you will then take _that_, accuse and convict someone and then suspend them. Am I correct?"

"That does seem like a likely course."

"No thank you."

"What?"

"You heard me," Sue replies. "I refuse to be part of a witch hunt."

"The fact that you were warned points to it being one of your Cheerios."

"That is one conclusion."

"_Sue_."

"I'm sorry, but I believe people are innocent until proven guilty," Sue answers.

"No you don't. I could name at least half a dozen times that wasn't true just off the top of my head," Figgins tells her.

"Fine, that last statement is a gross exaggeration. Still, I have nothing to say about the identity of the prankster."

"Very well, then I have no choice," Figgins says. "All your Cheerios are on probation."

"What? Why? Because I won't make random accusations? That seems rather unethical."

"Actually," Figgins interjects. "It's because I've decided that because you were warned, it had to be one of your Cheerios. And the way you're avoiding my questions makes me believe you know who."

"Maybe you should just dig a moat, fill it piranhas and install a drawbridge," Sue suggests. "That'll keep the rabble out after hours."

"If I don't accept your medieval torture device ideas, why would I go along with that one?" Figgins asks. "Also that sounds very expensive."

"It would probably work," Sue counters.

"So say you."

"There are plenty of ways of stopping the prankster," Sue says.

"Then I welcome any _rational_idea you have about stopping these pranks," Figgins tells her.

"Maybe if you did a better job as an administrator, students wouldn't feel the need to rebel so harshly," Sue says.

"Maybe if your Cheerios didn't act like this school is their own personal Sodom and Gomorra, then maybe we'd have some damn order around here."

"I teach my Cheerios to grab life by the golden ring and you want me to tell them that it's no longer allowed?"

"I'll be keeping an eye on your Cheerios, Sue," Figgins informs her. "If one of them steps out of line, there will be consequences."

"Fine. For now." Sue stands. "But this isn't over."

**…**

They're receiving a lot of stares, but a glare from Santana makes everyone duck their heads. Personally, Rachel doesn't understand it. It's not like it's anything new that she's sitting with Cheerios at lunch. Maybe because it's just her, Santana, Brittany and Quinn.

"So did you talk to Alyson yesterday?" Rachel asks Quinn. "How was _her_first day?"

The blonde blushes slightly. "Fine."

"Just fine?" Brittany asks.

"Yes."

"So when are we heading up there?" Santana asks. "You know how Rach here hates last minute planning."

"Probably not until next month," Quinn replies. "You really think you'll get permission?"

"Of course."

"You're not going to tell her that I'm, uh, well, going to see my…"

"Your what, Quinnie?" Santana teases.

"Shut up, Lopez."

"No, I'm not going to tell her; since you're so damn sensitive."

"I get to come too, right?" Brittany asks.

"Course," Rachel replies.

"Good," Brittany says. "I know some fun car games we can play."

"We're not playing car games, Britt," Quinn tells her.

"Awww."

Santana shoots Quinn a look.

"Oh whatever, S," Quinn replies. "Like you want to play car games."

"Course not," Santana tells her. "But maybe B will come up with a good one."

Quinn sighs. "As long as it's not the license plate game. I hate that one."

**…**

"They're sitting together," Tina tells Kurt as he sits next to her. "I don't think they broke up."

"Maybe they're just putting up a brave front for the kids," Artie pipes up.

Both Tina and Kurt turn to gape at him.

"Whoa. Tough crowd. Right. No jokes."

"I don't think your break up theory holds anymore, Kurt," Mercedes says as she sits at the table.

"Then explain the whole threesome Cheerios rumor," Kurt replies. "Plus, they're not sitting _next_to each other, just at the same table."

"It's just a rumor."

"And maybe Brittany's making them," Artie adds.

"And the harem application?" Kurt questions.

"Even I'll admit that it's a bit strange," Tina agrees. "But it's hardly conclusive."

"Did you guys actually _see_the application?" Artie asks. "I mean, maybe they were just messing with you."

"Good point," Mercedes agrees. "They are Cheerios after all."

"Ask to see their filled out application," Artie says.

"Because if they say no, then we'll know. Conclusively," Tina says. "And then we can drop it."

Kurt looks around the lunch room and sees the pair sitting at a corner of the Cheerios' table. He stands.

"You're going to do it now?" Tina asks.

"No time like the present," Artie quips.

"Yeah. What Artie said," Kurt says.

Mercedes, Tina and Artie watch as Kurt approaches the Cheerios' table. He exchanges a few words with both Cheerios and then the blonde hands him some papers. Clutching them tightly, Kurt turns around and returns to their table.

"I can't believe they just handed it over," Mercedes says once Kurt is sitting.

"They said they have a copy," Kurt replies. "Plus what's the point if Rachel won't accept it."

"That's true," Artie says.

Since the application is two pages, Kurt keeps one and hands the other to Mercedes. She and Artie look over it while Tina and Kurt look over the first page.

"I still think they're messing with us," Tina says once she's done reading the first page.

"Why?"

"Because," Tina replies. "Do you really believe that Rachel wants to know what their lucky number is?"

"This thing has fifty questions," Kurt says. "Some of them are gonna be odd, don't you think?"

"Does that really say 'Do the drapes match the carpet?' " Artie asks.

"Where?"

"Number twenty-three."

Kurt begins looking a little green. "Apparently."

"It looks legit," Mercedes says. "I mean, it really does look like something Rachel would give them."

"I still think it's a joke," Tina says.

"Why don't we just go ask Brittany?" Artie asks.

**…**

Brittany is the last to leave the table after lunch and so she's quickly cut off by Artie, Kurt, Mercedes and Tina.

"Hey guys," she greets.

"Brittany," Kurt says. "We need to ask you something."

"Is it about Koalas? Because the answer is yes, they do control the weather."

"What? No, it's about Rachel."

"Oh. Okay. She doesn't control the weather."

"Good to know," Mercedes says. "Um, this is going to sound a bit weird, but does Rachel have a, uh, harem?"

A huge grin spreads across Brittany's face. "You bet. I'm in it. You guys want an application?"

Stunned silence is the only response.

"I gotta go, but I'll let Rachel know that you're interested. Girls only, though. Sorry Artie. Bye."

"Oh. My. God."

"Kurt, sit down before you pass out," Tina tells him.

"I..." He plops down onto the nearest chair.

"Uh, not to be mean or anything," Mercedes says. "But are we completely sure that Brittany even knows what a harem is?"

"I feel confident that she does," Kurt answers.

"Maybe we should check?" Artie suggests.

"Who would we ask?" Tina questions.

"I don't know," he replies. "It was just an idea."

"I can't think about this anymore," Kurt announces. "It's wreaking havoc with my fragile brain."

"Lunch is over anyway," Mercedes says as the warning bell rings.

"Thank god," Tina mutters, glad to be done with the discussion.

**…**

Rachel is pulled out of class by Missy and Wendy on behalf of Coach Sylvester. Rachel really wishes Becky would have fetched her instead, even if she expected a confrontation with the two eventually. The awkwardness is filling up the hall as she follows them to Coach Sylvester's office. Surprisingly, they don't speak; simply leading.

When they arrive, the door is opened and Rachel is ushered inside.

"_Bye Rachel_."

Rachel just sighs in response.

"Close the door behind you, Streisand."

Rachel fights the rising apprehension she feels after _not_being addressed as Berry. She closes the door and sits.

"So we have a bit of a problem," Coach Sylvester says. "Our _illustrious_leader has decided that one of my Cheerios is the prankster."

"Oh."

"And because of this, we're going to be under a lot more scrutiny than normal," Coach Sylvester continues. "In fact, Figgins wants to put all of them on probation."

"Oh."

"So you're going to find a solution to this problem for me."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Coach Sylvester says. "You're going to get Figgins off my back. I don't care what you do, but make it happen."

"Of course, Coach."

"Good answer, Berry. Dismissed."

**…**

Rachel finds Missy and Wendy waiting for her outside Coach Sylvester's office and sighs.

"Missy. Wendy."

"_Hi Rachel_," Wendy greets, slinking up to Rachel and looping their arms together. "Where are you off to?"

"I thought I'd return to class," Rachel replies, gently removing Wendy's arm from hers.

"You sure about that?" Missy asks. "Maybe you want to come to the locker room with us."

"I'd really rather not," Rachel retorts.

"You guys better be careful," Becky says, exiting Coach Sylvester's office. "If Santana catches you, she might throw you two in the dumpster."

"No she won't," Missy replies. "Rachel wouldn't let her."

"Don't under estimate Rachel either," Becky adds as she walks away to deliver something for Coach Sylvester.

"Actually, I'm stepping aside, remember?" Rachel reminds them. "San can do whatever she wants to you. My method certainly isn't working and I'm beginning to find this tiresome."

"Actually, we want to ask you something," Wendy says.

Cautiously, Rachel replies, "All right."

"We've been asking around," Missy starts. "About what it was like before and we don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"How you could forgive her? Them?" Wendy asks. "I mean, Santana and Quinn and even Brittany were just horrible to you."

"And it sounds like Puck was just as bad," Missy adds. "How can he be your best friend?"

"People deserve a second chance," Rachel explains. "They've all made their amends one way or another."

"You're a better person than me," Missy tells Rachel. "I'm not sure I'd ever be able to forgive them."

"Well, like I said, I believe that everyone deserves a second chance," Rachel replies.

"Or you're too forgiving," Wendy says.

"Agreed," Missy adds.

"You're allowed to have your own opinion," Rachel replies.

"You should dump her and date us," Wendy says.

"Noted." Rachel starts down the hall and back to class.

"We're serious," Missy adds as they follow her.

"I know."

"But you don't care."

"As I've said before, your advances are unwanted."

"This isn't over, Rachel!" Missy calls after Rachel.

**…**

"I have a plan," Kurt announces.

He, Mercedes, Tina and Artie are hanging out at Mercedes' after school.

Tina groans. "Why?"

"This harem thing isn't bugging you?" Mercedes questions.

"No."

"Does that mean you're not going to go along with my plan?" Kurt asks.

"What is it?" Tina asks, suspicious.

"You're going to apply to be in Rachel's harem," Kurt announces with glee.

Mercedes looks doubtful, Artie looks intrigued and Tina is expressionless.

"What?" Kurt asks. "It has to be you. There's no way in hell Rachel would believe Mercedes wants to join her harem."

"But I would?"

"I think you could pull off bi-curious," Kurt tells her.

"Thanks?"

**…**

Santana supposes she should be more surprised to find Rachel in the kitchen talking to her mother when she arrives home from Cheerios practice. She ignores them both and goes upstairs to change.

When she comes back downstairs, Rachel is setting the table.

"Guess who's staying for dinner?" her mom greets.

"I see that, mom," Santana says, kissing Rachel lightly. "Hey babe."

"Hi. We need to talk after." Seeing the slightly panicked look in Santana's eyes, she continues. "Nothing like that, tiger. I swear."

"All right."

Tomás enters and looking surprised to see Rachel, grabs her up in a big bear hug. Rachel giggles, Clara smiles and Santana just rolls her eyes.

**…**

After dinner, Rachel explains her brief meeting with Coach Sylvester while sitting on Santana's bed. Santana paces the room, trying to ignore the open door. She's fairly certain her parents would never purposely eavesdrop, but she worries about what they might accidently hear drifting down the stairs.

Rachel seems less concerned; as if Santana's parents finding out how much Santana has influenced her won't have negative consequences.

"So what?" Santana asks. "You're going to stop pranking? No fucking way."

"That's not what I'm saying," Rachel replies. "I just know you're all amped up to do another one, even if it's still only the first week of school."

"It's the challenge," Santana says. "It's our senior year. Don't you feel like we need to do something big? Go out with a bang?"

"Once again, I'll reiterate that it's still the first week of school," Rachel says. "There's plenty of time."

"All right," Santana replies. "So what? You're telling me this because…"

Rachel shrugs. "I thought you'd want to know. In case Coach Sylvester brings it up or something."

"Doubtful. She's all gung ho to win as much as possible this year. She says it's the least we can do for her after she's done so much for us."

"Us who?"

"Well she was talking to all the seniors, but she was looking right at me, Q and Britt."

"You three were particularly evil under her tutorage," Rachel acknowledges.

"We just needed the freedom to develop," Santana replies. "I'm pretty sure the scheming and what not was already there."

"I suppose that's true."

"So what's next then?" Santana asks. "I mean, if Coach said to take care of it, then she _meant_it."

"I've got some ideas," Rachel says. "But I'm not sure you're going to like any of them."

**…**

The next morning, Tina reluctantly and nervously approaches Rachel at her locker. The application is carefully filed out and being kept crisp and pristine in a manila folder. She's really not sure how she lets herself be talked into these things.

"Hey Rachel," Tina greets.

"Oh, good morning, Tina," Rachel replies. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Tina says. "You got a minute?"

"Uh, sure, I suppose."

"So I've, uh, been hearing some _things_ about you and so I went to Brittany and she said it was _true_. So I'd like to submit my application to become part of your harem."

"Brittany said what, exactly?" Rachel asks.

"Well, I heard some Cheerios say they wanted to be part of your harem, but they had to fill out an application first. And then I ran into Brittany, so I asked her. She said she's in it and asked if I wanted an application."

"Did she?"

Tina nods.

"I suppose that's what's in your hand," Rachel continues, pointing at the folder.

Tina nods again.

"May I, um, see it?"

Tina hands over the folder. Rachel opens it and begins reading. After a moment, she looks up.

"Is this a legitimate request or a fact finding mission?"

"Uh…"

"Because if it's just a fact finding mission, we can just skip to that part and save ourselves all a little time."

"Look, Rachel," Tina says. "This wasn't my idea. I'm not sure why Kurt's so quick to believe rumors and speculation over anything else. I'm starting to find it irritating."

"Understandable."

"Kurt's concerned that this threesome Cheerios' rumor means you and Santana broke up. And he worries what that means for the rest of us."

"Such as how my and Santana's bad mood will affect our behavior," Rachel offers.

"Exactly."

"Well, I can see how that would be an issue," Rachel says. "And I can see why you guys wouldn't want to approach either of us. But I promise you, everything is fine between myself and Santana."

"And those Cheerios?" Tina asks.

Rachel shrugs. "I can't tell if they're actually obsessed with me or they just like messing with Santana."

"Did you really give this application to them?"

"I did," Rachel nods.

"Why?"

"I hoped its length would be enough to dissuade them."

"And just telling them no?"

"Hasn't worked yet," Rachel answers. "Either way, you can tell Kurt to relax. If he feels that San's being extra bitchy, it isn't because of me."

"Thanks, Rachel," Tina says. "I'll, uh, tell him."

**…**

It doesn't take Rachel long to hunt down Brittany. She's in the library attempting to make a Fibonacci spiral out of books. It doesn't look like she's all that successful to Rachel.

"Brittany," Rachel hisses. "You need to stop telling people I have a harem!"

"Why? Isn't it true? I mean, I thought I was in your harem."

"You know very well that _one_intimate encounter doesn't equate that you're in my harem," Rachel replies.

"Oh, doesn't harem mean that we've had sex?" Brittany asks.

Rachel sighs. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not that you're playing the dumb blonde card with me. You beat me at chess, Britt."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry Rach."

"_Why_ are you telling people that you're in _my_harem? Or better yet, why are you telling people I have a harem?"

"It was just Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie," Brittany answers.

"But _why_?"

"Because it's fun," Brittany replies.

Rachel sighs again, louder. "I really wish you'd find fun that didn't involve me getting handed a completed harem application earlier."

"Oooh, who?"

"Tina."

"What'd she answer for number twenty-seven?" Brittany asks.

"I don't know," Rachel answers. "I didn't really read it because I didn't believe it to be a legit application. Also, there's the fact that I don't actually _have_a harem."

"Personally I think she's a secret top," Brittany says.

"Well if you want to have that discussion with her, be my guest."

"Hmmm. Maybe I will."

"Britt, don't be ridiculous," Rachel says.

"What? I'm curious."

"Brittany, you know I love you, but you're just going to make things worse for me."

"Ho-"

"I can just tell," Rachel says. "So please. If you care about me at all, just let all this drop."

"I never get to have any fun," Brittany pouts.

"Cheer up, Britt," Rachel tells her. "Maybe you can help Santana with her campaign to thwart Missy and Wendy's advances."

"Did you just use the word thwart?" Brittany asks.

"I did."

"Oh, okay. Thanks Rachel. This has been a good talk."

Brittany jumps up, kisses Rachel on the cheek and rushes out of the library, leaving Rachel behind shaking her head.


	30. Solving Some Problems

**Title:** Solving Some Problems  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Marisa, Kat  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck helps Santana solve a problem while Rachel hangs out with Kat and Brittany solves a problem of her own.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,700  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Previous parts.

* * *

><p>"You better not have anything going on, tonight," Santana tells Puck when she finds him at lunch.<p>

"Why?"

"Because I have things I need to do. And you're helping."

"You're not the boss of me," he retorts. "Besides, it's Friday. That's bro night."

"Except Rachel's hanging with the kid tonight," Santana says. "Since you blew her off that one time for a date with a skank, she figures she can cancel on you this time to hang out with the kid."

"Yeah, she mentioned that," Puck grumbles.

"What? You already found some pathetic MILF desperate for a shag?" Santana mocks.

"No."

"Good. I'll be over after dinner," Santana says. "Be ready."

**…**

Marisa is on her way to lunch when someone grabs her arm and pulls her into the girls bathroom. Quickly on the defense, she tenses up and holds her books up in front of her. She hears a chuckle and opens her eyes.

Standing in front of her is Brittany Pierce, smiling.

"Uh, hi?"

"Hi Marisa," Brittany says. "How's it going?"

"Uh, fine, I guess," Marisa replies. "Did you need something?"

"I did," Brittany nods.

Marisa waits, but Brittany just keeps smiling at her. Finally, she asks, "Well?"

"Oh. Right. Are you busy tonight?"

"Uh, no," Marisa replies, trying not to feel embarrassed.

"Goody," Brittany says. "Do you want to go out tonight?"

"Are you asking me on a date?"

Brittany nods, her smile growing.

"Um, okay?"

"Great," Brittany says. "I'll pick you up at seven." Brittany then bounces over and kisses Marisa quickly on the lips before skipping out.

**…**

Rachel shows up at the Tyler residence at exactly six-twenty. Kat told her dinner is always at six-thirty and Rachel despises being late. Mrs. Tyler greets her warmly upon opening the door and ushers her inside.

**…**

Santana shows up at Puck's house at six-thirty dressed all in black. He takes one look at the determined look on her face and a shit eating grin spreads across his face. He runs back upstairs and returns moments later, dressed in a similar fashion.

Wordlessly, Santana grabs the duffel bag at her feet and follows him to his truck. She then directs him to a small park he vaguely remembers by Rachel's house. He parks and Santana jumps out, motioning him to follow.

They hide in the shadows of the trees, watching. Puck's insanely curious about what's going on, but knows he'll just get elbowed or smacked if he asks. Instead he just waits, trying not to feel too bored.

About ten minutes later, two familiar teenage girls come walking into the park. They look around, speak to each other and then the red head looks at her watch. They speak again, before sitting on the nearest bench.

"Finally," Santana whispers.

Puck watches her pull out two bandanas and an unmarked glass bottle. She opens the bottle and puts one bandana on the mouth as she tips it. Once it's soaked, she hands it to Puck and does the same with the other. She recaps the bottle and begins sneaking out of the shadows. Once again, Puck follows.

They manage to get behind the pair. Following Santana's lead, Puck creeps up and finds himself behind the red head. On the count of three, they both jump up and cover each girls' mouth with a bandana. Both struggle for a moment before losing consciousness. He throws the red head over his shoulder; she barely weighs anything. Santana, though strong, still has to half drag the blonde.

At Puck's truck, Santana produces more bandanas to blindfold and gag them. She then uses zip ties on their wrists and ankles. They're seated in the middle seat of truck and Santana directs Puck to drive off.

**…**

To Marisa's surprise, Brittany is on time. She doesn't know why she expected the Cheerio to be late, but she did. Maybe because of the air head persona she displays at school. Walking down the stairs slowly, Marisa is relieved that Brittany is dressed as casually as she is, though she looks amazing. Looking down at her own jeans and shirt, Marisa still feels underdressed.

"Hi honey," Marisa's mom says. "I was just telling Brittany here that your curfew is midnight."

"Not a problem Mrs. Lawson," Brittany says.

"Diane, please, Brittany."

"Diane, then," Brittany nods. "I promise I won't keep her out too late."

"You girls have fun then."

"Bye mom."

"Your mom seems nice," Brittany says as they walk towards her car.

"I think so."

"Here, allow me," Brittany says, rushing and opening Marisa's door for her, with an exaggerated bow.

Marisa giggles and tries not to blush as Brittany rushes around to the driver's side door and climbs in.

**…**

Puck, feeling like he's missing something, drives to Rachel's. He recognizes the Cheerios as the two weirdly obsessed with Rachel lately and so he has an idea about what his night is going to entail. He hopes Santana doesn't want to do anything _too_crazy, because he's not sure if he's up for anything like that.

He parks in the driveway and carries each girl into the backyard while Santana sets everything up. The duffel bag worries him; knowing her, there could be _any_thing inside. Nonetheless, he does as Santana orders and ties each girl standing to the largest tree in Rachel's backyard. They're situated far enough apart that once they start struggling, they still won't be able to tell exactly where the other is located.

When Santana explains this, Puck shoots her an odd look, but just keeps tying the knots.

**…**

Rachel tries to help clean up after dinner, but is rebuffed. Instead, she follows Kat upstairs to her room, so they can work on her science project. It's not due until _next_Friday, but Kat's schedule is just as full as Rachel's and this is the only night that actually works for both of them.

After Kat explains the project, Rachel can't help but say, "Not that I don't want to help you with this, Kat, because I do. I'm just confused. Why do you need my help? It sounds like you've got everything figured out."

"Oh, well Aly always used to help me with school projects. Until last year. And I kinda miss it. So I thought you could be like my surrogate big sister and help."

"Oh, well I'd be honored."

"Cool."

"So what are we doing?"

"We're going to explain why the sky is blue and the sunset is red."

**…**

To Marisa's surprise, Brittany drives them to a mini golf park, Pirate Cove. She doesn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't that. Nor does she expect Brittany's continued chivalry; Brittany opens both Marisa's car door and the door to the complex.

After paying, picking out putters and balls, they walk to the first hole.

"I know it's not like super awesome," Brittany says pointing to the first hole, which is simply a hole ten feet from the start with obviously fake treasure chests surrounding it. "But I'm not that great of golfer."

Marisa smiles. "It's okay. Neither am I. And it's fine. It'll be fun. Right?"

"Right."

**…**

The blonde, Missy wakes up first. Puck watches the reality of her situation dawn on her and the panic begin. He wants to speak up, but he's been told to keep quiet. He watches Santana approach the tree and begin to speak quietly to Missy. She immediately calms upon hearing a familiar voice, but the panic, though subdued, begins again once Santana steps away.

The red head, Wendy, wakes up a few moments later and Santana approaches her, speaking in low tones; her departure seems to leave Wendy shaking.

"Let's grab a drink," Santana tells Puck.

He nods and follows her into the house.

**…**

The fourth hole has a spinning wooden wheel that you have to hit the ball through. Marisa's worried for a moment until she realizes the wheel is spinning slower than walking speed. She smacks the ball and it glides straight under the wheel. Still, she didn't expect to get a hole in one. And she definitely wasn't expecting the kiss that Brittany gives her as congratulations.

**…**

Kat had all the materials together already, so it's just a matter of setting everything up. First, they fill a clear plastic container about the size of a shoe box with water. Next, they place a flashlight on the table, pointing its beam of light into the water. Rachel then begins adding pinches of powdered milk and stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. Kat watches and lets Rachel know when the beam of light is visible in the water.

**…**

The eighth hole involves half a pirate ship. Marisa hits her ball into the ship's hull and listens to the ball dropping down. Brittany does the same and the pair go to investigate where their balls landed.

After walking down about six stairs, Marisa sees her green ball is just to the side of hole. Brittany's red ball is sitting in the hole.

Marisa smiles as Brittany lets out a whoop of celebration before picking Marisa up and spinning her around.

"I've never gotten a hole in one before," Brittany tells her.

**…**

Over an hour later, Puck finds himself in the backyard again, watching Santana pacing in front of the pair of Cheerios.

"I would like to say," Santana starts. "That you were given significant warnings before we were forced to reach this point. By myself and Rachel. Agreed?"

"Do you really expect us to believe you're actually going to do something to us?" Missy asks.

"You seemed to earlier," Santana points out. "And I don't really care what you believe. Because it's going to happen, whether you believe it or not."

"Oooh. Scary."

Santana smirks. "I'm enjoying the bravado, I gotta say. Thanks for that."

"Just get your posturing over with," Missy hisses. "We've got places to be."

"You talk big for someone who's blindfolded and tied to a tree."

"And you're saying very little for someone who actually did this," Missy retorts.

"Touché," Santana replies. "Puck, hand me the blow torch, would you?"

"A blow torch? Really?"

Puck pulls out a lighter and ignites the torch. It's actually a mini one used to make Crème Brule that Santana had swiped from the kitchen, but they don't need to know that.

Santana advances slowly on Missy, letting her hear the hiss of the flame. Missy goes rigid as the noise approaches and Puck is a bit impressed because he expected a much bigger reaction.

"It's definitely real," Santana says, grabbing one of Missy's fingers. She quickly swishes the flame over Missy's pinky, just enough for her to feel that the flame is in fact real.

Missy lets out a frightened gasp at the sensation and begins shaking.

Throughout all this, Wendy has been silent, which baffles Puck; unless she's too scared to do anything. He probably would be in her position.

Santana raises the mini blow torch closer to Missy's face. "Don't worry. I hear after a while you become numb to the pain."

Missy is now visibly shaking as she whimpers, trying to move herself away from the heat.

"Uh, maybe we should knock her out again for this," Puck suggests.

"Good idea."

Instead of using more chloroform on Missy, Puck just uses another bandana to gag her; just as Santana told him before they headed outside.

Santana turns to Wendy. "Well, now that Missy's temporarily out of the picture, I should really pay more attention to Wendy."

"I'm just fine," Wendy whimpers. "I don't need any attention."

"I did warn you guys," Santana says.

"What did you do to Missy?" Wendy asks.

"Oh. She's fine. I'm just going to test out the blow torch on you, instead."

Wendy screams.

Puck quickly gags her.

"You know, I don't think this blow torch is going to be enough for me," Santana says. "Didn't you say something about needles?"

"I thought we were going to find various pieces of metal, heat them and then tape them to their skin," Puck says.

"Oooh, I forgot about that one," Santana replies. "I think I like that best. Let's go collect some random bits of metal."

"What about them?" Puck asks.

"Them? They're fine. Let them enjoy their last scar less moments."

"Cool."

**…**

Brittany wins mini golf by one, but Marisa doesn't mind. She had a lot of fun. She's also getting used to the random bouts of affection, Brittany seems to dish out. Brittany's victory means that Marisa is pulled into another hug, but this time Brittany also whispers in her ear.

"I'd give you a victory kiss, but I don't want to draw too much attention. Though, I bet you're cute when you blush."

Before Marisa can form a proper response, Brittany has grabbed her putter and is returning them.

"I didn't really think too much about food," Brittany says when she returns. "Do you mind going next store and getting pizza?"

"Sounds great."

"Yay."

**…**

Rachel helps Kat type up her report about what is happening. She does the typing, while Kat talks about the project.

"Don't forget to add that blue light is scattered ten times more than red light because it has a shorter wavelength and higher frequency," Kat says.

"Got it," Rachel replies. "Do you want to talk about how scattering can polarize light?"

"Um… How much do we have so far?"

"A page," Rachel says, clicking the mouse a few times. "Almost five hundred words."

"Then, no," Kat replies. "I think polarizing and transverse waves could be its own paper topic."

"Okay," Rachel says. "Then it just needs a concluding paragraph and you're finished."

"Awesome. Thanks so much for your help, Rachel."

"Of course, Kat," Rachel replies. "Though I really don't think you needed my help."

"Maybe not," Kat shrugs. "But I wanted it. I mean, now that school's started up, I have no free time. Dance takes up a lot of time."

"It's fine," Rachel assures her. "Between school, glee and all my lessons, I have very little free time myself."

"You better go," Kat says looking at the clock. "I'm surprised they let you stay this late."

"Probably because we were working on homework."

"True. Thanks for all your help."

"You're welcome, Kat."

**…**

Once they've ordered and have food in front of them, Marisa really begins to feel like they're on a date. Before when they were golfing, it was more like hanging out. Though maybe because there were so many kids around. But now, cozied up in a booth, just her and Brittany, it really hits Marisa that she's on a date with _Brittany_.

**…**

When Rachel returns home, she's not very surprised to find Noah's truck parked in the driveway. Knowing that Santana wanted to do something about Missy and Wendy, Rachel wonders if she should be more shocked that it's occurring at her house. She wonders if that's irony.

She finds them in the backyard. Keeping quiet, she silently approaches in time to hear Santana says, "You brought this on yourselves. I warned you. You _do not_want me to find you bothering Rachel ever again. Or what I do then? Will make this seem like a cake walk."

"What exactly is a cakewalk?" Puck asks.

"Not the time," Santana hisses. "Let's get started. The fire seems hot enough."

"Cool."

Rachel watches Santana clank around some silverware and nails, wondering what the hell is going on. Wendy starts whimpering while Missy begins sobbing loudly.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Santana says. "Knock 'em out. I thought if we gave them enough time, they'd learn to relax. Guess we're just gonna have to do this the hard way."

"Personally, I think it's better this way," Puck says as he begins soaking the bandana with chloroform. "I mean this way, we can probably do more because we won't have to worry about them struggling or whatever."

"True," Santana agrees. "They'll definitely be more docile this way."

Missy is wailing at this point and Puck quickly covers her mouth with the bandana. Santana does the same to Wendy who is now weeping. A moment later, both are unconscious.

"Hey guys," Rachel greets.

"Oh, Rach, great timing," Santana says. "You can help with the final step."

"Anything to get them off my back," Rachel agrees.

"That would be so hot," Puck grins.

Rachel just elbows him. "Turn around Noah."

"Aw, it's not like I haven't seen that stuff before," he grumbles, turning around.

Santana begins stripping Missy, while Rachel undresses Wendy. After tossing their Cheerios uniforms into a garbage bag, they redress them in sweatpants and t-shirts. They leave their feet bare.

Puck carries Missy to his truck. Rachel and Santana carry Wendy. Once the pair is secure, Puck drives them and Santana back to the park where they were taken from. Santana digs out Missy's car keys and climbs into Missy's car.

Santana leads Puck to another park on the other side of Lima that is being dug up. It was the last park in town to have a metal and wood playground. It's being torn up so it can be replaced by a much safer, plastic one. It makes Santana sad.

She parks the car and then helps Puck position them by the dug up playground. Santana stuffs Missy's car keys in her pocket before joining Puck back in his truck. The pair sit and watch, waiting for the girls to wake up.

**…**

When it's just the two of them, Brittany becomes more serious. She's still just as random and silly as she was during mini golf, but there are definitely serious moments too.

"What?"

"It's just you're so different," Marisa says. "Then you are at school."

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Brittany replies. "It's all an act."

"Why?"

Brittany shrugs. "It's easier. It started freshman year. Hanging with Quinn and Santana all the time, I just felt like it'd be easier to be ditzy. And I was right. Course, once you start that, you gotta stick with it."

"Well, of course."

"I know it seems stupid, but it works for me."

"It explains a lot, actually," Marisa says. "Although…"

"Yes?"

"So all those times where you pretended that you didn't remember my name?"

"All part of it."

"Why tell me?" Marisa asks. "That seems a bit risky, doesn't?"

"Not at all," Brittany replies. "Rach trusts you, so I know you're awesome. Plus, you're cute and lately I've been wondering what it'd be like to kiss you."

Marisa feels her cheeks become warm. "Oh."

"And I know you wouldn't go for _that_Brittany. So I have to be honest."

"What about earlier?"

"Oh, well, I have my moments," Brittany says. "Some of ditzy Brittany has rubbed off on me." She shrugs. "It happens."

"Oh."

"How weirded out are you?" Brittany asks.

"Only a little?"

Brittany looks relieved.

**…**

Santana's pretty sure that Wendy is stirring a mere twenty minutes later. She leans forward for a better view and sees the red head sit up in confusion. Watching the panic rise as the realization about their situation begins to sink in. Santana knows there are more questions than answers. Wendy finally starts shaking Missy, causing the blonde to sit up and elbow Wendy.

They panic for a bit and every minute that passes makes Santana doubt these two. After about ten minutes, Missy finds the car keys in her pocket and uses them. Her car's headlights flash and both jump up in relief. Santana watches them run to the car and climb in. The car doesn't move immediately and Santana assumes they're taking stock of their clothing and possessions. She wonders where they think their uniforms ended up.

The headlights snap on and the car speeds away. Santana watches it escape, chuckling.

Once enough time has passed, Puck heads back to Rachel's.

**…**

"I had a really nice time," Marisa says when Brittany parks in her driveway.

"Me too."

"And thanks for trust me, with your, uh, secret," Marisa continues.

"Thanks for agreeing to go out with me."

"Well, I rarely say no to pretty girls," Marisa replies.

"Lucky me," Brittany smiles. "I don't suppose I could get a good night kiss?"

Marisa nods.

Brittany leans in and cups Marisa's cheek before kissing her. It's short and sweet and when Brittany pulls away, Marisa wraps her arms around her and kisses her again.

**…**

"You staying the night?" Santana asks Puck as he pulls into Rachel's driveway.

"Nah, you're here," Puck replies. "You two should have some alone time or whatever. Right?"

"Really?"

Puck shrugs. "It makes Rach happy. Besides, tonight was kinda cool. I don't know what I was expecting of you, but damn, Lopez, remind me not to piss you off."

"You should know that already, Puck."

"True. Tell Rach I'll call her later?"

"If I remember." Santana climbs out of the truck and slams the door shut.

**…**

They end kissing past Marisa's curfew. When they finally break apart, Marisa glances over at the dashboard and sees that it's 12:13.

"Oh crap," she exclaims. "My mom is gonna be pissed."

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?" Brittany asks, sounding worried.

"Hopefully not," Marisa replies. "I'm technically home, right? The driveway totally counts."

"It should."

"I'll talk to you later?"

Brittany nods. "You won't get in too much trouble, will you? Because I was hoping we could go out again and if I have to wait until you're ungrounded, I'm gonna be sad."

Marisa grins. "I'd like to go out again, too. Maybe my mom didn't even notice."

"We can hope," Brittany says.

Marisa nods. "Night." She lingers for a moment before climbing out of the car.

**…**

"So," Rachel says when Santana slides into bed. "Do you think it worked?"

"No idea," Santana replies. "Though after I add the final bit, I may be insulted if it _doesn't_work."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I consider it the coup de grâce or whatever."

"But you're not going to let me in on it?" Rachel asks.

"Hey, you're the one that said keep you out of it," Santana points out.

"Yeah. Yeah. Throw a girl's words back at her," Rachel grumbles.

"Come here, you," Santana says, grinning.

"Is it wrong that I find it totally hot when you're scheming?" Rachel asks as she scoots into Santana's arms.

"Uh, no, because I am," Santana replies. "Besides I feel the same way about you."

"Awww. That is so sweet."

"Oh shut up and kiss me."

**…**

Monday morning, Santana is at McKinley bright and early to talk to Coach Sylvester before practice.

"Lopez," she says when she enters her office. "What an interesting surprise."

"Coach," Santana greets. "Can you spare a moment to talk?"

"For you, Lopez? Of course."

"Great. I was hoping you could do me a small favor," Santana says. "If you could call Watters and Kort into your office sometime today and demand to know what they did this weekend."

"I don't do favors, Lopez, you know that."

"And then when they hem and haw over it, you can explain how you were delivered their two uniforms in the most god awful state ever that you immediately had them sent for dry cleaning. And then you can question what they did this weekend in those uniforms because even the bag they were delivered in tells a story."

"Now why would I do this?"

"Besides the fact that it will seriously mess with their heads," Santana replies. "Especially when you present them with their pristine uniforms and this garbage bag." Santana holds up a filthy garbage bag.

"I see. I don't need details. And I like where this seems to be heading. But once again, that still sounds like a favor."

"Well, then I'd like to call in a favor," Santana replies. She hands over a sheet of paper.

"Coach Sylvester owes me one favor. If you ever feel you need it, it's yours. Love, Rachel," Coach reads. "That's quite a girl you've got there Lopez."

"I know," Santana says. "Which is why I'm using it to solve her little pest problem."

"Sickening. Both of you."

"So you'll do it?" Santana asks.

"I'll do it," Coach Sylvester agrees. "And I approve of the mind games, Lopez. Best way to solve your problems."

"Thanks Coach."

**…**

Monday afternoon, last period, Missy and Wendy are called into Coach Sylvester's office. They quietly sit and wait for their reprimand, though neither can remember anything they've done that would warrant a meeting with Coach Sylvester.

"I must say," Coach Sylvester begins. "I may be wrong about the two of you."

That can't be good, Missy thinks. "Oh?"

"What exactly did you two get into this weekend?"

"Uh…"

"Nothing," Wendy answers. "We just hung out at Missy's."

"Why?" Missy asks.

"Because _this_ was left for me this morning," Coach Sylvester replies, letting the disgusting garbage bag fall onto the desk. She also lets the napkin she's using to hold the filthy plastic, fall as well. "And inside were your uniforms. And ladies, I have _never_seen uniforms looking like this. Based off the smell and textures, my best guess is that you performed some sort of religious sacrifice."

"Uh, no, we aren't really into that sort of thing," Wendy says.

"Well, then your uniforms joined a cult and were inducted this weekend," Coach Sylvester replies. She then lets their now clean uniforms fall onto their laps. "I had your uniforms dry cleaned immediately. The smell was just too much."

"Thanks Coach," Missy says.

"I didn't do it for you, Watters," Coach Sylvester tells her. "Either way, I don't know what weird voodoo you two are into, but don't do it in your uniforms anymore. I don't want any more deliveries like this again."

"Course not, Coach," Wendy says.

"We, uh, didn't know that they'd, uh, end up here," Missy adds.

"Fine. Just get out of here before I decide to revoke your privileges."

Both Missy and Wendy jump up; grab their uniforms and the garbage bag before scurrying out of the office.

"Bye Coach."

"Thanks Coach."

"Very interesting, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says watching the two escape down the hall. "Very interesting, indeed."

**…**

Outside of Coach Sylvester's office, Missy holds up the garbage bag that their uniforms were supposedly delivered in. It's covered in mud, dried blood, sour milk, and oddly, spray cheese. There are cuts, slices and burns in the bag. It also smells pretty awful, like wet manure that's been sitting around in a hot car, with a slight hint of orange.

"What do you suppose it means?" Wendy asks.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Missy replies.

"I didn't find any marks anywhere on me, though," Wendy says. "Maybe she just pretended to do stuff to us."

"I was thinking that," Missy agrees. "Except for the whole Coach thing."

"Lopez could have just gotten her to say all that," Wendy points out.

"How? By asking? Coach Sylvester isn't the type to just do something when asked."

"But Lopez is one of her favorites," Wendy argues.

"Still, it would require Lopez to owe Coach Sylvester and everyone knows that's a dangerous thing. I don't think she'd be that dumb."

"I don't either," Wendy says. "But I'm going to pretend I do."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise my imagination goes wild. I mean, Lopez was trained by the best. She could have done all sorts of horrific things we aren't aware of."

"Yeah, I know," Missy says.

"So… We're backing off Rachel a bit, right?" Wendy asks.

Missy sighs. "Yeah, I think that's best. Otherwise, who knows what Lopez would do to us next."

"No kidding," Wendy says. "I heard a rumor that they shaved every bit of hair off a guy before giving him multiple piercings."

"Just a rumor," Missy replies.

"Rachel confirmed it for me," Wendy tells her.

"Oh. Well, then, _yeah_, we're backing off."

"Forever?" Wendy asks.

"Well, for now."

"One day, you're going to let me in on your grand plan, Mis," Wendy says as they walk down the hall and back to class.


	31. Try, Try Again

**Chapter Title:** Try, Try Again  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Marisa, Becky, Charlie Zingler, Sue, Tina, Mike, Puck, Quinn, Mercedes, Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel's multiple attempts to prove to Figgins that the prankster isn't a Cheerio.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~10,300  
><strong>AN:** Go to hugmachine . org to see what Rachel is helping Becky build.

* * *

><p>Rachel is pulled out of class by Missy and Wendy again. They don't say anything. In fact, they barely even look at her and Rachel has to wonder what exactly the final part of Santana's plot was, because it seemed to have worked.<p>

When Rachel reaches Coach Sylvester's office, she enters alone. She's surprised to find Coach Sylvester's chair empty.

"I wanted to talk to you actually."

Rachel turns to find Becky behind her. She watches as she goes to sit in Coach Sylvester's chair and gestures for Rachel to sit.

"Coach said it was okay," Becky explains. "I asked."

Rachel nods. "So what's up?"

"That Halifax Gibbet you built was awesome," Becky says.

"Thank you."

"I was hoping that maybe you could help me out and build something."

"Um… I suppose it depends what it is," Rachel replies.

"Well my friend Charlie and I want to build this," Becky says, handing over a piece of paper.

"A hugging machine? Rachel asks.

"Yeah," Becky replies. "It's for his older sister, Emily. She's autistic."

"Oh."

"And you can buy them," Becky continues. "But they're super expensive."

"I would assume as much."

"And both their parents have their hands full with their jobs and taking care of Emily."

"Understandable," Rachel says.

"So Charlie and I figured we could build our own, but he didn't think his parents would go for it without adult supervision."

"How old is Charlie?" Rachel asks.

"16."

"Well I'm only 17," Rachel replies. "So I'm not sure that I count as adult supervision."

"Yes, but you built that thing for Coach and it worked. And you're the prankster, so you've built all those contraptions. And they all worked just fine. Plus, Charlie has like this depth perception thing, so I think it makes his parents nervous about him building stuff."

"Oh. Okay. Did Coach Sylvester tell you I was the prankster?"

"No," Becky replies. "I figured it out. No one else would give me a warning."

"I'm sure that's not true," Rachel says.

"Well maybe not, but of those people, only you could pull off all those pranks as well."

"What about Santana?" Rachel asks.

Becky leans forward a bit. "She never was a fan. I think she just put up with me because of Coach and Brittany."

"Oh."

"It's not like she's ever been mean to me," Becky assures Rachel. "It's just that she's never been really nice, either."

"That I can see."

"So?"

"Let me do some research into this a little bit first," Rachel says. "But the answer will most likely be yes."

"Awesome," Becky replies. "Thanks Rachel."

"You're welcome, Becky. Is it okay if I go back to class?"

"Sure. Do you need a pass? I can write you one."

"No," Rachel chuckles. "I should be okay. But thanks."

"No problem," Becky replies.

Rachel stands and walks out of Coach Sylvester's office. She's surprised to not find Missy and Wendy waiting for her; relieved, but surprised. She looks around and doesn't see them hiding in the shadows either. Relaxing a bit, Rachel heads back to class.

**…**

Rachel doesn't have time to look over the info Becky gave her until lunch.

"Whatcha looking at, babe?" Santana asks.

"Becky asked me to build her something," Rachel replies.

"Yeah. She mentioned something about that," Santana says. "You gonna?"

"Probably," Rachel replies. "I particularly enjoyed the challenge of building the Halifax Gibbet."

Santana lowers her voice and leans in closer. "Being the prankster, isn't enough?"

"Apparently not," Rachel smirks.

"What's that?" Mike asks as he plops down next to Rachel.

"Info about building a hugging machine," she answers.

"A what?"

"It's a machine that hugs people," Rachel replies.

"_That _is so awesome," Brittany says, sitting across from Rachel.

Rachel smiles at Marisa who shyly sits next to Brittany.

"Although," Brittany continues. "Would it be a better hugger than me?"

"No one's a better hugger than you, B," Santana says.

"Awww, thanks, San," Brittany says. She turns to Rachel. "Why are you building a hugging machine?"

"Becky asked me to."

"Cool. Can I help?"

"Probably."

"Can Marisa help too?"

"Course."

"So you're taking requests now?" Mike asks. "Because I've always wanted a catapult."

"Seriously?" Rachel questions. "Why?"

"I also want a suit of armor, so I can pretend I'm in _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_."

Santana bursts out laughing, causing everyone to turn and stare.

"Sorry," she says. "Wasn't expecting that."

"I am full of surprises," Mike says.

**…**

"Can I ask you something?" Marisa asks Rachel as they're leaving lunch.

"Sure."

"Uh, so, this weekend, I went out on a date. With Brittany."

"_Really_?"

Marisa nods.

"How was it?"

"I had a really good time," Marisa says. "It wasn't at all what I expected-she wasn't what I expected."

"Britt can be surprising," Rachel agrees. "Delightfully so. Are you guys going out again?"

Marisa nods again. "Tomorrow after glee."

"But you're worried about something," Rachel says.

Marisa nods once more. "She was super sweet and she said the dumb blonde thing is just an act. I just worry about her reasons."

"For asking you out?"

"Yeah."

"Most likely because she wanted to," Rachel answers. "But I can talk to her, if you want."

"Thanks, Rach," Marisa says. "It's just that the Cheerios are so…"

"I know," Rachel says. "I know."

"Thanks Rachel."

**…**

Rachel doesn't have a chance to talk to Brittany until school ends.

"Hi Rach," Brittany greets when Rachel finds her at her locker.

"Hello Britt. How was your date this weekend?"

Brittany's grin grows. "I had a great time. I really like Marisa."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Brittany replies. "I mean, I always thought she was cute and stuff, but now that I've gotten to know her better, I like her."

"I'm glad."

"You were worried?" Brittany asks, looking her.

Rachel shakes her head. "Course not, Britt. But she was. And so I promised I'd ask."

"And even though you were pretty sure I like her, you had no proof, and so you had to ask."

"I'm sorry, Brittany," Rachel says. "I-"

"It's okay, Rach," Brittany replies. "I understand. You're not going to tell Marisa something so important without talking to me. Cause it's kinda like lying, sort of."

Rachel smiles in relief. "Exactly. Thank you for understanding."

Brittany grabs Rachel and hugs her. "Course, silly. You're just looking out for Marisa."

Hugging Brittany back, Rachel says, "I'm glad you like her. She'll be good for you."

"You think?"

Rachel nods as she pulls away. "But if you hurt her, I will be very upset with you."

"I know."

"Good."

**…**

Since Santana is her ride, Rachel spends her time after school in the auditorium. She doesn't spend the whole time singing, though. Operation: Clear the Cheerios, needs to begin soon and so Rachel spends most of her time planning.

**…**

Tuesday morning, Rachel drops by Coach Sylvester's office looking for Becky. She finds her at her desk, doing homework.

"Good morning, Becky."

"Oh hey Rachel."

"I looked over the information you gave me and I believe it to be doable."

"Really? That is so awesome. I can't wait to tell Charlie."

"Does he go to McKinley?" Rachel asks.

Becky nods.

"Maybe we could have lunch together, today?" Rachel suggests. "Get to know each other and what not. Cause I probably won't have time to start right away."

"That's okay," Becky replies. "We still have to buy the supplies and all that. Lunch would be cool."

"I figured we'd build it at my house, if that's okay," Rachel says.

"Makes sense," Becky replies.

"Great. We can discuss the specifics at lunch, right?"

"Yeah. See you at lunch."

"Bye Becky."

**…**

Quinn is texting with Alyson while she waits for Brittany to finish at her locker when her phone is suddenly snatched out of her hands.

"_Hey_."

"Oooh, how's the girlfriend?" Santana teases.

"Shut up, Lopez," Quinn snaps.

"Someone's sensitive," Santana continues.

"She misses Alyson," Brittany pipes up.

"Awww. Ow!"

Quinn grins as Santana rubs her side where Quinn elbowed her. "Serves you right. Besides, this is all your girlfriend's fault."

"How is this Rach's fault?"

"If she hadn't set me up, I wouldn't be missing my long distance girlfriend."

"She was trying to be nice," Santana says.

"She just wanted you to be gay, Quinn," Brittany adds. "I mean, happy. Or both."

"Shhh, Britt."

"It's our senior year," Santana says. "They're not going to throw you off your throne, Q."

"I don't care. I don't want these morons to know anything about me."

"Whatever."

"When are we going to visit Alyson?" Brittany asks.

Quinn sighs. "Not as soon as I'd like, B."

**…**

They have lunch in the choir room. Charlie turns out to a skinny guy about Santana's height, who keeps ducking his head whenever Becky smiles at him. Rachel finds it utterly adorable.

"So how old is your sister?"

"She's actually older than me," Charlie replies. "Twenty-one. But since she's pretty autistic, she goes to a different school."

"Severe?"

"No," Charlie says. "But moderate is still enough, right?"

"Um, I guess."

"I just really appreciate you helping," Charlie continues. "I've been wanting to build one for a while, but since I just barely passed Geometry, they don't have confidence in my spatial relations. Plus, I think they're worked I have some autistic traits."

"Well, I'm doing it more because Becky asked," Rachel says. "But I am glad to help."

"Then I guess I owe Becky my thanks," Charlie says, turning to Becky.

"I've always wanted to see one," Becky says. "You really think it'll help Emily?"

Charlie nods.

"I think it will," Rachel says. "According to my research, most autistic people find them very helpful."

"Good," Charlie says. "Em graduates this year and I know she's really nervous about leaving the comfort of school."

"I'm not sure I have time this week, but maybe next week?"

"That's fine," Becky says. "There's a couple things on the list that need to be ordered."

"We can take care of that," Charlie says.

"You're sure?" Rachel asks.

"Oh yeah, we'll be fine," Becky assures her.

**…**

Brittany is delighted to find Marisa waiting for her when glee is over. She tried to convince her to join her and sit in the back, but to no avail. And though Brittany is pretty sure that Marisa likes her, there's still a small part of her that's paranoid that she'll just blow Brittany off. After all, Marisa is the first person she's out right told that she's playing a character.

But instead when she exits the choir room, she finds Marisa leaning against a locker. Brittany can't help but greet her with a bear hug that pulls Marisa off the ground.

"I'm glad to see you too," Marisa greets.

Brittany sets Marisa down, grabs her hand and drags her out of McKinley.

**…**

Having watched the interaction from the doorway, Santana turns to Rachel who has finally gathered all her things together.

"That's an interesting development."

"Agreed," Rachel says. "I was surprised as well. Britt didn't mention anything to you?"

Santana shakes her head. "I may have to have a little talk with the freshman-"

"Sophomore," Rachel corrects, as they begin their trek to the parking lot.

"Whatever," Santana says. "Either way, the kid needs to know the dire consequences of hurting Brittany."

"Calm down, tiger," Rachel says. "I agree that hurting Brittany is bad, but we don't need you scaring Marisa either. Britt really seems to like her."

"How do you figure?"

"She told her that the dumb blonde thing is just an act," Rachel replies.

"Huh."

"Exactly."

"Still," Santana continues. "I wouldn't be looking out for Britt if I didn't."

Rachel sighs. "Just don't scare her too much, okay?"

Santana grins. "I'll try."

**…**

"I know Breadstix isn't that exciting," Brittany says as she drives. "But our options are kind of limited."

"It's okay," Marisa replies. "Really."

"Yeah?"

Marisa shrugs. "I like spending time with you."

Brittany's grin is nearly blinding. "Me too."

**…**

"So are you going to tell me what exactly you have planned to clear the Cheerios?" Santana asks as she drives to Rachel's house.

"No," Rachel replies. "The less you know, the better, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Santana agrees. "You know how I hate not knowing."

"I'm hoping this whole thing will be over quickly," Rachel says. "But I doubt Figgins will be so easily persuaded."

"Does he really think he's going to outsmart Coach?" Santana questions.

"He's desperate and grasping at straws," Rachel replies.

"Apparently."

"Either way, stage one will beginning soon," Rachel says.

"God, that is so hot."

"You don't even know what I've got planned, Santana."

"So? Knowing you, it's intricate and awesome," Santana says. "Besides, you know what scheming Rachel does to me."

"Well than it's lucky we're heading towards my very empty house isn't it?"

Santana just steps on the gas.

**…**

Thursday morning the Cheerios return to the girls locker room after their early morning practice, to find it flooded. Quinn drags Santana inside with her to investigate. They find that all the showers and sinks are running and for whatever reason, the drains aren't working.

"Fucking prankster," Santana growls.

"You know _everyone_knows it you, S," Quinn replies.

"Except it's not," Santana says. "Why would I flood _our_locker room?"

"To draw attention away from yourself."

"Whatever, Fabray," Santana scoffs. "It's not me."

They slosh out of the room and back into the hallway. Thankfully, someone informed Coach Sylvester, who in turn told them to inform the janitors.

"How the hell are we supposed to get ready?" Wendy asks.

Quinn sighs. Since it seems that Coach is staying in her office, it's up to her. "Everyone go grab your stuff and we'll use the guys locker room."

There's a chorus of groans.

"It's disgusting in there."

"Yeah, well, short of going home, anyone else have any ideas?"

Silence is their answer.

"Thought so." Quinn goes back in to grab her things. Santana follows. And soon the others are trialing after.

Quinn agrees the guys' locker room is disgusting. She plans on spending five minutes top inside. The fact that the girls' locker room is flooded past her knees is the only reason. She grabs her things and waits for the others to follow her.

They enter the guys' locker room. Santana makes sure it's empty before Quinn locks the deadbolt and the Cheerios quickly go about getting ready.

**…**

Tina is quietly eating her lunch when she's joined by Rachel. Surprisingly neither Santana or Brittany are anywhere nearby and Tina briefly wonders if Rachel and Santana are fighting again. She hopes not; Kurt always works himself into a frenzy when that happens.

"The Cheerios are cleaning up the girls locker room," Rachel explains.

"Oh. I wouldn't have thought Coach Sylvester would allow that," Tina replies.

"Apparently they've been so sloppy lately, that Coach thought she'd remind them of what their future _could_be."

"Okay."

"Yeah, Coach Sylvester is a real treat," Kurt says joining them.

"Is she punishing one by punishing them all?" Mercedes asks.

"What does that mean?" Tina asks.

Rachel sighs. "It means they still mistakenly believe it's Santana and are implying that Coach Sylvester believes that as well."

"Rachel, sweetie," Kurt says. "I think it's adorable how you defend her, but even you have to admit that your girlfriend is a scheming bitch. And I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"_Kurt_," Tina hisses. "That was out of line."

"No, he's just being honest," Rachel says. "Even if I don't agree with him, I can't fault him for speaking his mind."

"You're just lucky Santana isn't around," Tina adds.

"Though, Rach will probably tell her anyway," Mercedes throws out.

"Uh, really?" Kurt asks.

"Really, Kurt?" Tina questions.

"It's fine, Kurt," Rachel assures him. "Though I really wish you'd keep your negative opinions of Santana to yourself when I'm around."

"Uh, sure, Rachel," Kurt says. "I can do that."

"Thank you." Rachel stands. "If you don't mind, I seem to have lost my appetite." Gathering her things, she quickly leaves.

"Nice job, Kurt," Mercedes says.

"One day you're going to say something that makes her slap you," Tina adds.

"Maybe that's what he's going for?" Mercedes suggests.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kurt replies.

"Then why would you say something like that?" Tina asks.

Kurt shrugs. "Rachel appreciates honesty."

"Maybe," Mercedes agrees. "But sometimes it seems like you're deliberately pushing her buttons."

"Fine. I'll try to be more sensitive. Okay?"

"Hey, it's your funeral," Tina says.

**…**

"Sit down, Sue," Figgins says as Sue enters his office.

"I'll stand," Sue replies. "I still have two students to terrorize."

Figgins sighs. "Fine."

"So what's this about?"

"I wanted to let you know that it didn't work," Figgins answers.

"It didn't? That's too bad," Sue says. "What are we talking about?"

"Flooding the girls' locker room. I didn't buy it Sue."

"Buy what, exactly?"

"Having the prankster prank your Cheerios," Figgins explains. "It only emphasizes the guilt in my mind."

"I'd tell you, it's none of my kids," Sue says. "Again. But somehow I don't think you're going to believe me."

"I try not to believe your lies, Sue."

"Whatever. When you finally figure out it's not any of my Cheerios, I expect an apology."

"You'll be waiting a long time, Sue."

Sue smirks as she exits the office.

**…**

Becky approaches Rachel at her locker after lunch.

"Hi Rachel."

"Hello Becky."

"Coach wanted me to give you a message," Becky explains.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she said to tell you that it didn't work."

Rachel sighs. "I figured it wouldn't. But you've got to start small."

"Principal Figgins is very stubborn."

Glancing around the hall, Rachel says, "I think it's prerequisite for working at McKinley."

Becky laughs.

"Thanks for the message, Becky," Rachel continues. "You can tell Coach Sylvester that I'm already working on another plan."

"Will do, Rachel," Becky says. "See you later."

"Bye Becky. Thanks."

**…**

Bro night is mellow. Video games and drinking. Noah is still trying to make a gamer out of Rachel. She does all right, but both expected her to do better.

"So you're only average," Noah says. "No biggie. You can't be awesome at everything."

Rachel sighs. "I know. But I'm hardly presenting any sort of challenge for you."

Noah shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not. Who cares?"

"I suppose no one."

"We can always go out back and you can wow me with your knife wielding skills," Noah suggests.

"You're just angling for another lesson," Rachel says.

"What's wrong with that?"

Rachel gives it a moment of thought. "Nothing, I guess."

So they finish the evening with some knife throwing, though Rachel does put the kibosh on anymore drinking until they're finished tossing around sharp objects.

**…**

When Santana arrives Saturday morning, she's only mildly surprised to find Rachel up, dressed and diligently working at her desk.

"Hey babe," Santana greets. "Whatcha working on?"

"Prankster stuff."

"Figgins didn't buy the flooding?" Santana asks as she flops onto the bed.

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "Nor did I expect him to."

"So why do it?"

"Well, for one, it is nice to spread the misery around, don't you think?"

"Uh, sure, I guess."

"Plus in my mind, there was a slight chance that Figgins would have bought it. Though, I would have lost what little respect I had for him."

"So phase two?"

Rachel nods, turning to face Santana still on her bed. "Though now that you're here, I'd much rather focus on you."

Santana smiles.

**…**

Brittany picks Marisa up at noon on Saturday. She exchanges a brief greeting with Marisa's mom and catches a glimpse of the twins.

She then walks Marisa to her car and opens the door for her, which causes Marisa to giggle.

"So where are we going?" Marisa asks once they're moving.

"The park," Brittany replies. "I thought we'd have a picnic."

Marisa glances in the backseat and sees a picnic basket.

"I didn't think they even still made picnic baskets."

"Who knows," Brittany replies. "This one was in our attic."

"Oh."

"We don't have to have a picnic, if you don't want," Brittany says.

"What? No, I do. I just… It's just really sweet of you," Marisa replies.

"Yeah?"

Marisa nods. "Yeah. It is."

"Oh good."

**…**

As usual when they arrive at the Lopez residence Sunday evening, Santana heads up to her room while Rachel goes to greet her parents.

"Evening, Clara."

"Rachel, darling, hello."

"Do you need any help?"

"You could set the table, if you'd like," Clara tells her.

"All right."

Rachel goes to the cabinet and begins pulling plates out.

"I wanted to tell you dear," Clara says. "That even though San won't be around next Sunday, I still expect you for dinner."

"Of course," Rachel replies. "I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else."

Clara chuckles. "I knew you were a smart girl."

"I thought I heard the front door," Tomás says, entering the kitchen. "Lovely to see you as always, Rachel."

"Hello Tomás," Rachel replies as she's pulled into a hug.

Dinner is quiet and easy as it usually is. Rachel and Tomás gang up on Santana, teasing her while she grumbles about unfair advantages and Clara just barely holds back her laughter.

**…**

The week passes quietly with no activity from the prankster. Instead, Rachel tries to spend as much time with Santana as possible since the Cheerios have their first out of town competition of the year and will be gone all weekend. She also has several diversions planned for the weekend to distract her.

**…**

It takes almost no effort for Santana to convince Rachel to skip third period in favor of good luck sex. They hide out in the girls locker room, using the first stall that no one uses out of superstition. They have several close calls when people enter to check their locker or use the bathroom.

Not that it matters; it's not like Santana's embarrassed that she wants to have sex with her girlfriend. She knows Rachel would be mortified about being caught, but figures they'd get off light punishment wise, so hopefully the embarrassment would be mild.

It's the first time in a long time that they won't spend Saturday together and so they both figure it's worth the risk. Besides, Santana thinks, Rachel is pretty hot when she's trying to stay quiet.

Santana wonders when she stopped caring that she's a complete sap for Rachel. She's only going to be gone seventy-two hours; she shouldn't be _this_upset about it.

"It's sweet," Rachel tells her.

"To you," Santana retorts. "To anyone else…"

"Well no one else has to know," Rachel points out.

"B'll know," Santana says.

"Yes. Probably. But she won't tell anyone. And maybe she'll help keep you distracted."

"Yeah, she probably will," Santana agrees. "Though, what about you?"

"Oh, don't worry," Rachel says. "I have many distractions planned."

"Good. You'll need them. I'm quite missable."

"You have your moments."

"_Hey_."

"Keep that up, tiger and you won't get a good bye kiss," Rachel teases.

"Like hell I won't."

Santana grabs Rachel and pulls her in tight, kissing her as if they'd be separate for three months instead of three days.

"All right, don't make me get the hose," Coach Sylvester's voice cuts in. "Just because I tolerate you two, doesn't mean I want to see that."

Santana moves to pull away, but Rachel holds her tight for another few seconds before breaking the kiss.

"Sorry, Coach," Santana says. "Gotta keep my girl happy."

"Uh huh. Whatever, Lopez. Get your ass out here, we're waiting."

"I'll see you Monday?"

Rachel nods. "Kick some ass."

"We always do," Santana smiles. She gives one more quick kiss before scurrying out of the locker room and following Coach Sylvester out of McKinley and onto the bus.

**…**

Noah drags Rachel to a party Friday night. She's extremely reluctant since Noah is the only one there she knows, but he plays on her guilt of having less time this year.

"C'mon, Rach," he says. "It'll be fun. And no one will give you a hard time, I swear. If they do, you tell Santana and they'll pay next week."

"Fine," Rachel agrees. "But I'm driving, so I can leave anytime I like."

"That's fair, bro."

Which is how she finds herself wandering around Kenny Marrison's house. She has a beer in her hand, more to not stick out than a need to actual drink. She takes her designated driver role very seriously.

"Hey Rachel."

Rachel turns to find Matthew Jamieson awkwardly holding a beer. "Oh, hello Matthew," Rachel greets. "No offense, but it's a bit of a surprise to see you here."

"I could say the same about you," he counters. "I live across the street. Unfortunately, I've known Kenny forever. When my mom heard he was throwing a party, she made me come. She thinks I need to socialize more."

"Oh, that's… different."

Matthew nods. "What about you? I didn't think you'd know anyone here."

"Oh, well Noah Puckerman dragged me along."

"Oh. Right. You guys are friends. That's still so weird to me."

"Moments like this, it's odd to me as well."

Matthew looks around. "Just a sec." He disappears into the kitchen and returns with two bottles of water. "Come on." He grabs Rachel and drags her out the front door and then across the street.

"Uh, Matthew, where are we going?"

They stop walking when they reach Matthew's front door. He plops down on the front step and gestures for Rachel to join him. She does and he hands her a bottle of water.

"I thought we could talk and it'd be quieter over here."

"What a wonderful idea," Rachel agrees.

Matthew smiles as he opens his water.

**…**

When Rachel goes to find Noah several hours later, she finds him passed out on the couch. He won't wake up no matter how many times she shakes him, so she simply leaves him there. Before she leaves, she sends him a text explaining the situation. She hopes he won't be too mad.

**…**

When Becky and Charlie are dropped off at Rachel's on Saturday morning, they're greeted with a huge smile and the smell of pancakes wafting through the house.

"Morning guys," Rachel says as they sit at the kitchen table.

"Hi Rachel," Becky replies. "Smells great."

"Have a seat," Rachel says. "I made plenty." She sets a plateful of pancakes on the table.

"Holy cow, Rachel," Charlie says as he sits. "If you weren't taken, I'd ask you to marry me."

"Wait until you taste them before you make such outrageous statements."

Becky looks up, already having taken a bite. "They're awesome, Rachel."

"Yeah," Charlie adds.

"Good," Rachel says sitting down with a fruit salad. She snags a pancake from the pill and puts some fruit on it. "So I figured we could go to the hardware store and get supplies first. Everything arrived this week; the headrest came yesterday, which is good. I was getting worried."

"It was a good idea to have it all sent here," Charlie says. "It took enough effort to get a ride. Trying to find a way to bring all that stuff with us, probably would have been too much."

Becky nods as she eats.

"Okay, then," Rachel says. "We'll head out after breakfast."

**…**

Once they get back from the hardware store, Rachel finds herself feeling extremely motivated. Charlie and Becky begin unloading everything they bought as Rachel begins putting the rest of the supplies in the backyard.

They take a small break, sipping water stretched out on the grass before Rachel's up and working.

The base is first. Thankfully, the hardware store was able to cut the plywood as needed because Rachel figures this alone will save them a ton of time. All she really has for cutting wood is a jigsaw, which wouldn't be nearly accurate for this.

They're starting the sliding side panel quicker than expected and Rachel wonders if this whole project will take less time than planned.

**…**

Mike shows up at seven, making Rachel realize she's completely lost track of time.

"No worries," Mike says. "No one else is here yet."

"Excellent. We should definitely be able to finish tomorrow. Don't you think?"

Becky nods. "Defintely."

"I'll give my dad a call, so he can pick us up," Charlie says, pulling out his cell.

"You guys could stay and hang out if you want," Rachel offers.

"No thanks," Becky says. "We've got plans."

"Oh?"

"I'm taking her out to dinner," Charlie replies. "But thanks."

Rachel smiles. "See you guys tomorrow?"

"Yep," Becky smiles.

"Cool," Rachel says.

"My dad will be here in ten minutes," Charlie announces.

"Perfect. We can go wait for him out front then," Becky says.

**…**

Tina shows up just as Charlie's dad is reversing out of the driveway. Marisa is dropped off moment later, followed closely by Artie.

Rachel already has the Nintendo set up, so they begin digging through the games, arguing about what to play first.

"So how much are you missing Santana?" Mike asks Rachel.

"It's only been a day, Mike," Rachel replies. "I think I can survive."

"What about Marisa?" Tina asks.

"What about me?"

"You're dating Brittany right?"

"Yeah," Artie says. "I heard that too."

"Uh, we've gone out a few times," Marisa says. "But dating, I don't know."

"Do you think she'll give you her letterman jacket?" Mike asks.

"And you can both share a milkshake at the ice cream parlor after school."

"When did we become a TV show from the fifties?" Artie asks. "Because I think I missed that note."

"It's weird is all," Mike says. "Brittany doesn't really _date_. She must really like you."

"Oh."

"So are you guys ready to get your asses kicked?" Rachel interrupts.

"You wish, Berry," Artie replies. "Last time, I dominated."

"That was then, this is now."

**…**

They end up playing past midnight when Tina's mom calls, concerned. They quickly clean up and begin to figure out how everyone is getting home.

Mike offers to drive Tina and Marisa since the all live in the same direction.

Since Artie doesn't live too far from her house, Rachel grabs her keys and meets Artie in the garage. She's not sure what needs to happen for him to get into her car, so she just waits for his instructions. She watches him in awe as his half lifts, half drags himself from the chair to the passenger seat. She then grabs his wheelchair and tosses it in the back.

"So you're suddenly miss build things?" Artie asks once Rachel's driving.

"Well Becky asked. How could I say no?"

"True, I guess," Artie agrees. "I'm thinking of getting my own car."

"It's a nice thing to have."

"The only problem is that it's definitely going to need some extra work done."

"Makes sense," Rachel says.

"Wanna help?"

"Really?" Rachel questions.

"We need to hang out more," Artie replies.

"True."

"And me having my own transportation will help with that," Artie explains.

"If you're sure."

Artie nods, but realizes Rachel can't see him as she drives. "I do."

"All right."

"Awesome," Artie says. "I still need to find the right car, so it might be a while."

"Still," Rachel says. "It'll be fun."

"I think so."

Rachel pulls into Artie's driveway. She jumps out and puts his chair next to the car and then watches as he maneuvers himself into it.

"Thanks for the ride," Artie tells her.

"Thank you for coming over," Rachel replies.

Artie smiles. "Night Rachel."

Rachel climbs back into her car and waits until Artie is inside his house before reversing out of the driveway.

**…**

Sunday, Becky and Charlie show up with bagels, coffee and fruit. Smiling, Rachel grabs the black coffee and the fruit. They eat quietly at the table and Rachel resists the urge to ask how the date went. Though judging by the smiles on both their faces, Rachel is guessing it went well.

Afterwards, they head out to the back yard to finish the hugging machine. Charlie grabs the directions and they begin working on the headrest, the final part before assembling the whole thing.

**…**

"Well that does it," Rachel announces as she attaches the air mattress to the Velcro.

"Awesome-sauce," Charlie says. "Can I try it out?"

"That's the whole point, right?"

Charlie lays down, placing his face on the headrest.

"Okay."

Rachel pulls the mattress tight around Charlie and Becky fastens the Velcro until he's held firmly in place.

"So?" Becky asks after a moment.

"It works," he hisses. "Wow, that is some serious pressure."

"That's the point," Becky tells him.

"I know," he replies. "But, whoa, didn't expect it, I guess. Em's going to love it."

"Good," Rachel smiles.

Becky looks at her watch. "It's only two, can we take it over to Charlie's now?"

"I don't see why not," Rachel replies. "Let me just attach the trailer to my car and we can bring it over. Whose home at your house?"

"Uh, my dad," Charlie replies. "They're usually off on Sundays, but mom was given so overtime, so she had to work."

"Oh. Okay. And Emily, right?"

Charlie nods.

"So she'll be able to try it out," Becky says.

Charlie nods again.

"Okay, good."

**…**

Because Charlie called his dad while Rachel was attached the trailer, they're expected. Which is why they're greeted by both his dad and his sister.

Despite knowing what to expect, Rachel still finds it a bit odd to hear the twenty-one year old in front of her speak in succulent and very simple sentences. Though from what she understands this is a rather recent development; up until a year ago, communication with Emily involved mostly gestures and sign language.

After introductions are made, Charlie's dad, who insists Rachel that call him Greg, helps Rachel bring the machine into the house. They set it up in the living room so Emily can immediately try it out.

"Well?" Greg asks her.

"Good. Okay?" Emily tells him.

"Yeah it is," Charlie chimes in. "It goes tighter, too, sis."

"Okay."

"Want me to make it tighter?" Charlie asks.

"Yes."

Charlie undoes the Velcro as Rachel and Greg push the mattress together a little bit more. He reattached it and Emily lets out a sigh of contentment.

"_Oookaaaaay_."

"That's a good sign," Greg says. He turns to Rachel. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Rachel nods and follows him into the kitchen.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," Greg says.

"I'm glad that it seems to be so successful."

"We want to move Emily into a group home in the next year or two and I know she's anxious about it. I think this will really help."

"Good. Charlie seemed really concerned."

Greg smiles. "Yeah, he worries about his big sister."

"It's nice."

"How much do I owe you?" Greg asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, all that had to cost money," Greg explains. "Plus your time, of course."

"Uh… You actually paid for all the materials," Rachel replies.

"What?"

"Charlie said you and your wife knew about it," Rachel continues. "He ordered a few things online, like the mattress, with your credit card. And then yesterday he shows up at my house with a hundred dollars for the rest of the materials, which we got at Home Depot."

"Oh."

"I apologize," Rachel says. "I guess I should have tried to speak with you or your wife, but I trust Becky and she said it was fine."

"Becky," Greg calls. "Could I talk with you for a minute?"

Becky appears a moment later.

"Um, who paid for all of this?"

"You did. Well, technically we used Kelly's credit card. But we showed her what we were ordering and why."

"And the cash?" Rachel asks.

"Kelly gave us that before she went to work yesterday," Becky explains.

"Oh."

"Did she not tell you?" Becky asks Greg. "I'm sorry. I guess, I should have said something-"

"It's been a particularly busy month," Greg replies. "With school starting and all that. I'm sure Kelly just forgot to tell me."

"Oh. Okay."

Greg turns to Rachel. "Well, at least let me pay you for your time."

"No thank you," Rachel says. "It's really not necessary."

"I insist."

"I insist as well," Rachel replies. "Any money you give me, I'm just going to give to Charlie."

"Well you have to let me do _some_thing," Greg continues.

"I did this because Becky asked," Rachel replies. "It's really not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?"

"I'm glad I could help," Rachel continues.

Greg sighs. "Well, will you at least accept my sincere thanks? And from my wife as well?"

"Of course," Rachel nods. "I'm just glad that Emily seems to like it."

"Like it?" Emily says as she follows Charlie into the kitchen. "_Okay_."

"Good," Rachel says. "And I'll be happy to help with anything that needs to be readjusted or fixed."

"Thanks, Rachel," Becky says.

**...**

Sunday night, Rachel knocks on the Lopez door. It is quickly opened by Tomás. "Evening, Rachel," he smiles.

"Hello Tomás."

"Look who showed up," Tomás announces as he leads Rachel into the kitchen.

"It better be Rachel," Clara says. "I told her that San being gone is no excuse."

"As if I would miss dinner with you two," Rachel says.

"Sweet talker," Clara smiles, turning around. "Do you mind setting the table?"

Rachel nods and goes to the silverware drawer.

"So how do you think they're doing?" Tomás asks.

"I'm sure they're doing quite well," Rachel replies.

"Knowing Coach Sylvester," Clara says. "I'm sure they're winning."

"True," Tomás agrees.

"So what have you been up to without Santana?" Clara asks as they sit down to eat.

"Oh, plenty," Rachel replies. "But what I'm most proud of is that I was able to build a hugging machine."

"A hugging machine? Really?" Tomás asks. "For what?"

"A sister of a friend of a friend," Rachel answers. "She's autistic."

Tomás nods.

"And how did you know how to?" Clara asks.

"Oh well, they found instructions online that we followed," Rachel explains.

"Well that was very nice of you dear," Clara says.

Rachel blushes slightly. "I enjoyed the challenge."

"Still, I'm sure her parents appreciated it," Tomás says. "Those things are expensive."

"Does this mean you'll build something if I need it?" Clara asks.

"It depends," Rachel answers. "If I'm able."

"What do you need built?" Tomás asks.

"Nothing now," Clara replies. "However, it's nice to know."

Tomás just shakes his head as Rachel tries to hide her giggle.

"So you're just a contractor for hire?" Tomás asks.

"Not exactly," Rachel replies. "Becky knows I have the ability, so she asked."

"Lucky for her," Clara says.

"Indeed," Rachel agrees.

**…**

Feeling a bit lonely, Rachel is reluctant to leave, so Tomás pulls out a chessboard and begins teach Rachel the finer points of the game.

"You're getting the hang of it," Tomás says after three games.

"Thanks," Rachel replies. "I've been trying to get Santana to teach me, but we just seem to get frustrated."

"Well that could just be her," Tomás says. "She doesn't really have the patience to teach anyone chess."

"I can see that."

"I actually taught San and Felix at the same time," Tomás says. "And Santana seemed to just _know_where it took Felix a bit more time. I remember that Santana tried to help teach, but had no patience for Felix. She just couldn't understand why he was having trouble when it was crystal clear to her.'

Rachel chuckles.

"Poor Felix eventually gave up because he didn't want Santana looking over her shoulder and commenting."

"So she's always been this way," Rachel laughs.

"Oh yes," Tomás replies. "From the moment she could talk."

"You know she's going to be annoyed that you told that story," Clara says, coming in to check on the pair.

"Pshaw," Tomás replies. "It's Rachel."

"I suppose it depends on how much you tease her, dear," Clara says.

"She'll be fine with it," Rachel replies. "I mean she told me about the time Felix tricked her into drinking spoiled milk and she threw up until her stomach was empty."

"I'd forgotten about that," Clara says.

"I don't think she's drank milk since."

"Besides," Rachel continues. "She knows I just find stories like that adorable."

"I still haven't figured out how you've managed to have that girl wrapped around your little finger," Tomás says.

"Uh… I'm not sure you want to," Rachel replies. "And the feeling is mutual."

"We know," Tomás says. "Otherwise I'd be concerned."

"Thanks." Rachel looks at her watch. "I better go. It's a school night."

"All right, dear," Clara says. "We'll see you next week."

"Next week," Rachel agrees.

"We'll play a game or two," Tomás adds.

"That sounds lovely. Good night."

"Night Rachel."

**…**

Driving home, Rachel feels torn. The fact that she's been so welcomed by Santana's family has always been a pleasant surprise; more so, after her own fathers' rejection. And she tries to bask in every moment of family togetherness. Especially since it all might disappear soon.

Despite asking permission to marry Santana in a decade, Rachel is also considering breaking up before they head to college. It's the most pragmatic solution to the problem that long distance college relationships cause. Rachel doesn't want their relationship to end with anger, harsh words that can't be taken back and screaming.

Even though Rachel knows this, she's still be struggling. There are some moments, like tonight, where she has to stop and reconsider her plan. It wouldn't just be breaking up with Santana, it would be ending her relationship with the whole Lopez family and that thought is almost as crushing as ending things with Santana.

Maybe her plan needs to be reevaluated again.

**…**

It's around two in the morning and Rachel is back at McKinley. It's time for another prank. And while this one is relatively simple, the set up time is lengthy.

**…**

Rachel finishes a little after 4 a.m. and heads home. When she's safely back in her garage, she sets up the mass text warning people, including herself. It's too early to send it, but if it's ready, she can just hit send on her way to school.

Looking at the clock, Rachel sees there isn't that might time to grab a nap, so instead she begins planning the next prank. Just in case Figgins _still_believes the prankster to be a Cheerio.

Rachel really hopes it doesn't come to that because this final prank isn't something she wants to do. But it's the only thing she's come up with to clear the Cheerios.

**…**

When Mike arrives at McKinley, he's careful to watch his step, just as the prankster's text said this morning. At his locker, he pulls out the necessary books and over hears people complaining of tripping.

"Have you heard?"

Mike looks up and finds Tina in front of him. "Prankster?" he asks.

Tina nods. "Trip wire."

Mike whistles. "Harsh."

"I know, right?"

"I think we pissed him off," Mercedes says, appearing next to Tina.

"So you don't think it's Santana?" Tina asks.

"No way. That's Kurt's thin," Mercedes replies. "Besides, aren't all the Cheerios gone until this afternoon?"

"Well maybe someone else set it up for her?" Kurt offers, suddenly appearing.

"_Who_?" Mercedes asks. "_Rachel_?"

"Uh…"

"Exactly," Mercedes says.

"I don't think it's Santana," Tina says.

"Yeah, I can't see Rach being okay with it," Mike adds.

"Just because they're dating," Kurt says. "Doesn't mean that Santana is just going to stop-"

"Actually, I think it kind of does," Tina interrupts.

"Why does it matter?" Mike asks.

"Don't you want to know who is warning us?" Kurt questions.

"Sure I'm curious," Mike replies. "But why rock the boat?"

"Yeah," Tina agrees. "What if he or she gets annoyed with your investigation and stops warning us?"

Mercedes elbows Kurt. "If we stop getting warnings because of you, we will so be fighting."

"You guys are unbelievable," Kurt says, as he walks away.

**…**

Having received the text from Rachel, Santana is careful when she enters McKinley. It helps that she's not the first off the bus and can watch others trip as they walk in. Though she has to wonder why Figgins hasn't had the janitors get rid of the wires.

"They're probably working on it," Brittany says. "After all, they're kinda hard to see."

"Rachel is getting a little vicious, don't you think?"

Brittany shrugs.

"I mean, if anything, this is implicating us even more," Santana continues.

"I think she's trying to make a statement."

"And what would that be?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, maybe the two of us should have a talk," Santana says as they reach her locker. "Speaking of talking, how's it going with Marisa?"

Brittany smiles. "Pretty well, I think."

"Rachel's worried someone's going to get hurt."

"It's always a possibility in relationships," Brittany replies.

"Yeah, that's true," Santana agrees. "But you like her?"

Brittany shrugs again. "Yeah. I just… She's cute and funny and I've just wanted to pull her into a hug and never let go."

"That's nauseatingly adorable," Santana says.

"YaY!" Brittany claps. "It's just like you and Rachel."

"_Hey_!"

**…**

Sue hasn't been back to McKinley for more than five minutes before she's being summoned by Figgins. Still a bit high off their win, she goes without her usual stalling.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Sue, congrats on this weekend."

"As if there was any doubt we'd win."

"Yes, well," Figgins says. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Listening."

"As I'm sure you're aware of, the prankster struck in your absence."

"Did he?"

"_She_did indeed," Figgins says. "And while I applaud the attempt, not for one moment do I believe that one of your Cheerios weren't involved."

"When did this prank happen?" Sue questions.

"This morning."

"Then it couldn't have been any of mine," Sue replies. "We all just got back."

"As if they don't have enough influence to have someone else do it for them," Figgins tells her.

"Believe what you want," Sue says. "But my Cheerios aren't behind these."

"I'll believe it when I have hard evidence, Sue."

"Whatever you want to tell yourself," Sue replies. "But I have better places to be." She turns and stalks out of the office, intent on finding Berry.

**…**

"Personally, I'm worried we pissed him off," Mercedes says at lunch.

"How can we piss off an anonymous person?" Mike asks.

"I don't know," Mercedes shrugs. "But trip wires seem kinda cruel."

"And a school wide slushie shower isn't?"

"Uh, no," Kurt says. "If it's been done to us, then it's not."

"Well, technically, you have been tripped, Kurt," Tina points out.

"Not with wire."

"Now you're just splitting hairs," Mike says.

**…**

Surprisingly the way that Rachel learns the Cheerios have returned isn't because of a text from Santana. Instead, she's summoned by Coach Sylvester.

"Sit down."

Rachel does so.

"It didn't work."

Rachel nods. "I thought it might not."

"If you knew this one wouldn't work, why bother?"

"I didn't _know_ it wouldn't work, but I'm not completely surprised that it didn't," Rachel explains. "And I _really_didn't want to do what I have to do next. I was hoping this would work."

"Well, it didn't," Coach Sylvester replies. "Though I'm starting to think Figgins is being stubborn on purpose."

"He's very good at it," Rachel agrees.

"So you've got another plan?"

"I do," Rachel nods. "I'll begin putting it together and hopefully have Figgins off your back by the end of the week."

"It better work this time, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "I've already given you too many opportunities to fix this. Don't fail me this time."

"I won't," Rachel assures her. "And two chances could hardly be considered _too_many opportunities, Coach."

"It is for me, Berry. And you know it. So fix this."

**…**

"Hey Coach," Becky greets, entering the office.

"Hello Becky. We missed you this weekend."

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Coach," Becky says. "Finishing the hugging machine took all weekend."

"Of course," Coach Sylvester replies. "And you got to spend time with Charlie, right?"

Becky nods. "We're dating, actually."

"Excellent," Coach says. "Though I may have to talk with him about the proper way to treat a lady."

"He knows," Becky replies. "He was a perfect gentleman on our date Saturday. Plus, he was so grateful for the hugging machine."

"Yes, Berry does good work."

"It's pretty awesome," Becky agrees.

**…**

Since Santana's been gone all weekend, her parents gave permission for her to spend the evening at Rachel's as long as she's home by ten. So after practice, the two head to Rachel's house in Rachel's car.

"Trip wires?"

"It had to be something school wide and relatively easy to set up," Rachel explains.

"But still, tripping people? It seems mean."

"Maybe a little," Rachel agrees. "But I'm building towards something, so to speak."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it didn't work and so I'm going to have to try something more drastic."

"Something more drastic than tripping everyone?" Santana asks.

"Yes."

"Okay."

"And you're not going to like it," Rachel continues. "I'd like to apologize beforehand. But I feel like my hands are tied. It has to be like this."

Santana sighs. "You know I hate it when you get all cryptic. So let's just drop it."

"Okay. I am sorry, though."

"Rach, babe, drop it. We'll talk about it after it happens, okay?"

"Okay."

**…**

Tuesday afternoon, Puck makes his way to glee, surprised that he might actually be early for once. However, this changes when Rachel grabs him and drags him into the nearest classroom.

"Hey bro," he says, cautiously.

"I need your help."

"Course. You know I'm here for you, Rach."

"Good," Rachel says. "I need to play a complicated prank and I need your help."

"Awesome. You've been doing the last couple solo. I was feeling left out."

"I'm sorry. But it had to be that way. I need you to meet me here tomorrow morning, at five."

"What?" Puck exclaims. "That's really fucking early."

"It is," Rachel agrees. "And was the cursing necessary?"

"_Yeah_."

"So will you?"

Puck sighs. "Yeah, I will. But this prank better be awesome."

"Well, it depends on how you look at it, I suppose," Rachel answers as she exits the class room.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Puck calls after her.

**…**

Getting a ride home from Santana is normal for Brittany. But she's surprised when Rachel asks to come inside for a moment. Brittany expects Santana to follow, but Rachel requests she wait in the car. Brittany just barely holds back a giggle at the annoyed look on her best friend's face.

It takes a moment to dig out what Rachel is looking for, but once she hands it over, she's rewarded with a huge Rachel Berry smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"It'd be on the lips," Rachel says. "But I don't want to make things difficult with _your_girlfriend."

Brittany grins. "Same here."

"Thanks, Britt," Rachel says. "You're the best." And then she's hurrying down the stairs and out the door.

**…**

Once Santana heads home for the night, Rachel begins preparing for the next morning. She pulls out her list and makes sure she has everything she needs, which she does. It's a habit to check and double check things. As far as Rachel can tell, everything should go off without a hitch as long as Noah shows up as promised. She even has a contingency plan she has if he doesn't. Though she hopes she won't have to resort to it; it's a lot more work. And while Rachel Berry isn't one to shy away from hard work, she also knows that she wants this whole thing to be as simple as possible.

**…**

Up an hour earlier than usual, Rachel goes through her morning routine of exercising, a shower and a fruit smoothie. She then calls Noah's cell until he picks up.

"_Whaat_?"

"It's four-thirty," Rachel tells him. "Get up so you can meet me at school."

"Rachel?"

"Yes, Noah," Rachel sighs. "I need you to get up and get ready. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay, bro. I can do that."

"If you aren't at the school in thirty minutes, I will be very upset with you, Noah," Rachel tells him before hanging up.

**…**

Rachel hands Puck an Egg McMuffin when he arrives.

"Thanks, bro," he replies. "So are you going to fill me in on this prank?"

"We're going to kidnap all the Cheerios and chain them to that gate I set up."

Puck looks over at the front of the school and finds a huge metal gate in front of the door.

"How'd you do that?"

"Well, it's just cemented down," Rachel explains. "I had the Saunders' brothers do it for me late last night."

"You're insane."

"I'm following the old adage, go big or go home," Rachel tells him.

"I'm not sure this is quite what they meant," Puck replies.

"Noah," Rachel says. "I need to clear the Cheerios as suspects. Coach Sylvester told me that Figgins believes it to be someone on the squad. And though extreme, this is the only thing I could think of to clear their names."

"What does Santana think of all this?"

"She doesn't know," Rachel replies. "I thought it'd be better that way."

"I guess."

Rachel sighs. "If you don't want to help me that's fine. I just need to know so I can execute plan C instead."

"What about plan B?" Puck asks.

"It doesn't matter."

"I'll help, Rach," Puck replies. "It's just… it's kinda early for me and this whole plan is kinda… _whoa_. You know?"

"I do."

"But I'm here for you, bro," Puck says. "So just tell me what you need me to do."

**…**

Cheerios begin showing up thirty minutes later. No one wants to be late for one of Coach Sylvester's practices. Rachel's thankful that Brittany has so much chloroform, though she's curious where she gets it all. If she gets it in bulk at a cheaper rate, Rachel should really take advantage of that and get some for herself, just in case.

Rachel asks Noah to grab Santana, Brittany and Quinn, afraid she wouldn't be able to do it. Noah gleefully accepted, pulling the ski mask down that he insists on wearing and springing into action as soon as he sees Quinn's car pull up.

Lucky for them, no one shows up in threes and fours, just a few pairs, so they're able to take everyone down without the others becoming any the wiser. When Becky shows up, Rachel explains the situation to her and asks her to inform Coach Sylvester that no one will be showing up for practice. Nodding, Becky agrees to tell Coach Sylvester, but promises she'll be returning to watch.

Noah meanwhile is setting each Cheerio next to the gate. Rachel underestimated how big it should be, so it's a bit squished, but they figure no one will noticed once they're awake.

Once everyone's in front of the gate, Rachel begins the process of attaching them to the gate. It's time consuming, but with Noah's help it doesn't take as long as Rachel had planned.

Coach Sylvester appears just as they're finishing.

"Go big or go home might be an understatement for you Berry."

"I hope this works," Rachel replies. "I'm running out of ideas."

"Really?"

"Well that aren't _completely_cruel," Rachel clarifies.

"And what would you call this?" Noah asks.

"Slightly cruel," Rachel replies.

"It's awesome," Becky says.

"I'm a bit worried about what the rest of the student body will do to them like this," Rachel says.

"Well, as long as they're awake, they can handle it," Coach Sylvester replies. "I'm sure most of them will just try to get revenge later."

"How are they going to get out of this?" Noah asks.

"It's actually quite simple," Rachel says. "I'm sure Brittany will figure it out."

"Not your girl?"

"I believe she'll be too annoyed," Rachel replies.

"Very true," Coach Sylvester chuckles.

**…**

There's a terrible pounding noise when Santana wakes up and she's having a difficult time figuring out where the noise is coming from. She tries to roll over and shut off her alarm clock and finds her movement restricted. Groaning, she struggles to open her eyes.

And then she's slapped in the face.

Her eyes shoot open and she finds a smirking Quinn Fabray in front of her.

"Watch it, Bitch," Santana growls.

"You need to get your ass up, so we can figure out what the hell is going on," she says.

"Yeah, San," Brittany adds, suddenly appearing behind Quinn. "It isn't a good thing."

"Could you keep your voices down," Santana replies. "My head is already filled with a god damn marching band."

Quinn sighs. "Just stand up and look around, S."

Still annoyed, Santana stands with Brittany's help and finds her right hand is chained to something.

"Actually, I think they're manacles," Brittany says.

"Of course," Santana grumbles.

Looking around, Santana sees all the Cheerios are lined up against a gate and connected with manacles.

"Fucking prankster," Santana growls.

"You think?" Quinn snarks. "I blame you for this."

"You would."

"We're going to get a lot of crap once everyone starts showing up," Quinn says.

"I know," Santana sighs.

"Maybe we can get out of these before everyone arrives," Brittany says.

"Good luck," Quinn replies. "I was one of the first ones awake. We've been trying."

"Well I know how to pick locks," Brittany says. "We should be out in no time."

"No key hole, Britt," Santana tells her as she examines the cuff.

"How unexpected," Brittany says, leaning against the gate.

"What the hell is going on?"

Everyone looks up to find Principal Figgins standing in front of the gate looking aghast.

"What the hell does it look like?" Santana asks.

"If this is some kind of stunt-"

"Does this look like a stunt?" Coach Sylvester questions, appearing on Figgins' right. "And what would something like _this_accomplish?"

"With you, Sue, I've learned that I understand very little," he replies.

"Then you're actually learning," Coach Sylvester replies. "But this isn't me."

"How did this happen?"

"We were on our way to practice and then blackness," Brittany says. "When I woke up, I was chained to this gate."

"Stupid prankster has gone too far this time," Quinn adds. "_No one_chains Quinn Fabray to anything."

"Until now," Santana says.

"Shut it, Lopez."

"Make me, _Fabray_."

"Quiet," Coach Sylvester says.

"Are those manacles?" Figgins asks, looking closer.

Santana nods.

"Who has manacles in Ohio?" he questions.

"Better question," Quinn says. "Who has so many?"

"Even better questions," Santana says. "How the hell are we getting out of these things?"

"Yeah," Brittany says. "There's no key hole and it'll take forever to cut through any of this metal. Plus, I bet the school doesn't have the proper equipment for that."

"Who would?" Figgins asks.

"So we're stuck like this?" Quinn asks.

"Of course not, Ms. Fabray," Figgins replies. "We'll figure something out."

"Oh _that's_reassuring," Santana snarks.

As Santana and Quinn argue with Figgins, Brittany begins carefully examining the cuff. She knows Rachel would never put them in a situation they couldn't get out of. Partly because she's too nice, but mostly because she wouldn't do that to San or Quinn or herself. Brittany knows there's a way out of these cuffs. She just has to figure out how.

**…**

Figgins finally manages to pull himself away from a _very_angry Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez and heads inside. He has his secretary call Tony the head janitor to deal with the problem, hoping he'll have some fresh ideas.

"What are you going to do about freeing my kids?" Sue asks, bursting into his office.

"_Sue_," he says. "Give me a damn minute, all right?"

"At least tell me that you're taking my Cheerios off probation," Sue says.

Figgins sighs. "Fine. I will. But only because I don't think any of them would go _this_far to clear themselves."

"Or none of them are the prankster," Sue tells him. "Which I've already told you."

"Excuse me if I don't always believe you, Sue," he replies.

"Your mistake," Sue says. "Good talk." And then she's gone before Figgins can reply.

Figgins sighs again. It's going to be a long day.

**…**

Brittany's been studying the manacle for over fifteen minutes when she finds the release button. It's miniscule and right next to where the chain connects with the cuff. She lets out an internal sigh of relief; she'd been worried that she'd never find it. Rachy does like to challenge her.

She tries pushing it, but it won't budge. She then tries twisting it, but that doesn't work either. Finally, she tries pulling it and the cuff pops open.

"Eureka!" she exclaims.

**…**

Quinn and Santana are arguing with Karofsky about what payback he'll receive if he does anything to them while they're chained to a fence, when they hear Brittany's triumphant shout.

Everyone looks over to see the blonde no longer chained to the gate and doing a little dance.

"Oh thank god," Santana says.

**…**

It doesn't take long for Brittany to free all the Cheerios. Everyone is rubbing their right wrist and thanking Brittany for finding a way out of it.

They all get reamed out by Coach Sylvester for allowing themselves to be caught off guard, ignoring their protests that it's_Lima_and no one expects things like this to happen here. Everyone who protests if assigned twenty laps to be run over lunch.

Meanwhile the janitors spend the morning trying to remove the cemented down gate.


	32. Another Road Trip

**Chapter Title:** Another Road Trip  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Alyson, Marisa, Tomás, Clara, Sue, Puck  
><strong>Rating:<strong> light R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Quinn, Brittany, Santana and Rachel take a road trip to visit Alyson.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~11,200  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Just previoius parts.  
><strong>AN:** Immediately follows Try, Try Again. Also I've never been to Pittsburgh, so all info is from the interweb.

* * *

><p>Unsure of Santana's reaction to being manacled to a gate, Rachel manages to avoid her girlfriend for almost the entire day. She knows she's being silly, but she caught a glimpse of Quinn right after and if she'd been any angrier… It gave Rachel pre baby gate flashbacks.<p>

So she's been hiding. And yeah, Santana may _logically_know why Rachel did what she did, but Santana isn't usually ruled by logic.

**…**

Rachel is practically dragged out of the girls' bathroom by Missy and Wendy. They look a little worse for wear, but they don't say anything. Despite being what she wanted, sort of, Rachel is still thrown by their behavior. Still, not wanting to risk causing a relapse, Rachel stays silent as well.

She enters Coach Sylvester's office feeling oddly apprehensive. She's not sure why. It's not as if she didn't do exactly as Coach Sylvester asked. It may have taken longer than either had wanted, but Rachel is calling the whole ordeal a success. Hopefully Coach Sylvester will be on the same page, especially since usually she is.

"Berry," Coach says as Rachel sits. "I must say how impressed I am with you."

"Thank you, Coach."

"Don't get me wrong, at first I was highly disappointed at your sad attempts to get Figgins off my back, even though I knew you'd persist until it happened. That fact is what kept me at bay. But your stunt this morning, is pure genius. And that you were willing to do it to all of them, including your main squeeze is just fascinating to me."

"I had to," Rachel replies. "You know Figgins would have taken anyone's lack of involvement as proof."

"Of course," Coach Sylvester says. "Absolutely true. But I thought for sure that would mean that you'd keep pulling things that none of the Cheerios would have done or couldn't have done. But doing something _to_them is so much simpler."

"I suppose."

"Have you spoken to Lopez yet?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"Hmmm."

"She'll be fine with it," Rachel says. "Eventually."

"Well, I must applaud your ruthlessness. I approve. And since it worked, maybe thing can get back to normal around here."

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "Though, I'm not sure I know what that is."

"Me either, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "But it should be interesting."

**…**

The moment Rachel steps out of Coach Sylvester's office, she's caught up in a hug.

"Rachy," Brittany exclaims. "I've missed you."

"I saw you yesterday, Britt," Rachel points out.

"Yes," Brittany agrees. "But being chained to a gate makes it feel a lot longer."

"Oh."

Brittany hugs Rachel again, and whispers. "I'm not mad. I know why you did it."

"You're not? You do?" Rachel asks as they pull apart.

Brittany nods.

"Thanks, Brittany."

"Course. I better go. I'm supposed to be in Calculus." And Brittany takes off down the hall.

"You're taking Calculus?" Rachel calls after the retreating blonde, but Brittany is too far away to answer.

**…**

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me, Rachel Berry."

Rachel had waited until most of the hallway cleared before heading for her locker at the end of the day. She knew the empty hallway meant she'd be more easily seen, but was hoping it meant that everyone had left for the day. Or, in Santana's case, headed to practice. Because Coach Sylvester wouldn't give them an afternoon off after being chained to a gate, especially since they missed morning practice.

"It's been a busy day," Rachel replies.

"So it has."

Rachel turns to find Santana smirking at her.

"You're not mad?"

"I was," Santana admits. "Really mad, actually. But you did warn me. And I know _why_you did it."

"And you've had time to cool down?"

Santana nods.

"Good." Rachel reaches out and pulls Santana in for a kiss.

"So this morning Quinn said we're visiting her girl this weekend," Santana says.

"You guys talked about Alyson while manacled?"

Santana shrugs. "You up for it?"

Rachel nods. "I've already planned it out."

Santana looks surprised.

Rachel lightly slaps her on the arm. "Alyson's my friend as well, you know. We talked about it yesterday."

"Oh. Well good then."

"We still need to receive parental permission, though," Rachel says.

"Quinn already has it," Santana replies. "She told her mom that Alyson's a good friend of yours and she's only going because _I _asked her too."

"So it's just yours then?"

"No comment about Quinn's lie?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "I know how difficult it is for Quinn. And she'll come out to her mom when she's ready."

Santana looks relieved.

"We can talk about it tomorrow after glee, okay?"

"Right babe," Santana says. "I better go. Coach is going to be pissy no matter what. No sense in giving her a legit reason."

Rachel gives her a quick kiss on the lips and then Santana is bounding down the hall.

**…**

Knowing they're on a bit of a timeline, Rachel invites herself to dinner at the Lopezs'. She feels bad about it and offers to come over early and help. Clara is delighted by this and eagerly accepts.

And so when Santana arrives home, she's surprised to find Rachel's car in the driveway, but is even more surprised to find Rachel in the kitchen helping with dinner.

"Hi San," Rachel greets.

"Hey babe," Santana says, cautiously, grabbing a quick kiss. "I wasn't supposed to give you a ride, was I?"

"Course not, silly," Rachel says. "I just thought since you weren't here Sunday night, it'd be nice to recreate it."

"Oh."

"Your girl is such a sweetheart," Clara says. "It's just about ready, so why don't you two set the table?"

"Of course, Clara."

Wordlessly, carrying plates, Santana follows Rachel, who is carrying silverware and they begin setting the table.

"We need permission sooner rather than later, don't you agree?" Rachel asks, trying to answer Santana's unasked question.

"I suppose."

"Just follow my lead."

Santana can't help but smile. She loves scheming Rachel, especially since she could totally take advantage of things and she rarely does.

"You got it, babe."

**…**

Not sure what Rachel has planned, Santana listens as they discuss school, glee, both her parents jobs and Cheerios. She speaks up every so often, but mostly she's waiting. She's fairly certain that her parents will agree; after all they've yet to say no to Rachel, but she's also willing to admit there's a first time for everything.

Oddly enough it comes up naturally when her mother asks if they have any specific plans for the weekend.

"Um, well, funny you should ask," Rachel says.

"Oh?"

"Well, um, I don't know if San ever mentioned it, but over the summer, I set Quinn up with girl who goes to the University of Pittsburgh."

"No she didn't," Clara says.

"Quinn Fabray?" Tomás asks, trying to clarify.

"Yeah," Santana says.

"Thank god Judy kicked Russell out first," he adds.

"Indeed," Rachel agrees.

"That must be tough for her," Clara says.

Rachel nods. "Quinn was hoping to drive up to Pittsburg this weekend for a visit. However, she can't do it alone."

"So the three of you are going to drive up there, drop her off and then the two of you are going to spend the weekend alone in a hotel room?" Tomás asks.

"You would let me?" Santana asks, astonished.

"Certainly not," Clara says. "We may me easy going, but even your father and I have limits."

"Which we very much understand, Clara," Rachel interjects. "That's why Brittany would be coming with."

All three Lopezs stare at Rachel; even Santana, who Rachel thought was aware of that aspect.

"Really?" Tomás asks.

"Really," Rachel nods. "It's just… this is really important to Quinn. And since I set the two of them up, I feel like I should continue to try and help facilitate further contact. Otherwise, I worry that Quinn may jump back in the closet. However, I also understand why you'd have some concerns. And so as a compromise, Brittany comes with. Sort of like a chaperone."

"Well…"

"And before you protest that Brittany would just leaves us two lovebirds alone, I have to say, there's no way I'm letting her wander around Pittsburgh alone."

"It wouldn't end well," Tomás agrees.

**…**

Rachel is drying the dishes as Santana washes. Clara and Tomás are upstairs discussing it. Santana finds it a bit strange that this apparently requires more discussion than letting her go on a road trip with her girlfriend, best friend and Puck.

"Maybe because it's the school year?" Rachel suggests.

"Maybe because some psycho chained me to a gate," Santana counters.

"You told them?"

"Course not," Santana replies.

"Don't scare me like that," Rachel says.

"I know it's a bit crueler than your usual," Santana says. "But it was still impressive."

"I know," Rachel sighs. "I just feel like my ideas are getting too mean."

"They're not."

"Says you."

Santana grabs the towel out of Rachel fingers and dries her hands. She then pulls Rachel into a hug.

"I know you're worried about losing yourself in this, but I don't ever think that's a concern."

"It's bad enough that I've sunk to some sort of revenge towards… everyone," Rachel says. "But lately it seems like the only ideas I can think of involve humiliating someone."

"That's okay," Santana tells her. "Doesn't mean you have to do it. Besides, considering the company you keep, I'm surprised you didn't think of the mean stuff sooner."

"Some days I find it extremely difficult to let things go," Rachel says.

"Everyone does, babe."

"Okay, but then it's your job to help keep me in check. Right?"

"Right."

**…**

When an hour passes and they've yet to see either Clara or Tomás, Rachel begins to think she may have over estimate her hand.

"You're worrying over nothing," Santana says, sitting on the couch.

"It's been over an hour," Rachel points out as she paces.

"They love you," Santana replies. "And you're totally their favorite."

"That doesn't mean they'll say yes."

"They will," Santana assures her.

"I don't know," Rachel says. "I mean, maybe we're pushing our luck? Your parents have already been so generous. I already feel like a member of this family, more so than I do in my own house."

"Awww, jeez," Santana says. She reaches out, pulls Rachel into her lap and wraps her arms around her.

"I just don't want them to think I'm trying to take advantage of their kindness," Rachel continues, slightly muffled as she speaks against Santana's shoulder. "Because I'm really not. I just don't think Quinn should go up there by herself. You know?"

"We never thought you were trying to pull anything, Rachel."

Both girls turn to find Tomás in front of them.

"Hi papa," Santana greets.

Tomás sinks onto the couch next to Santana and wraps his arm around her. Because Rachel is wrapped up in Santana's arms, she ends up being hugged by Tomás as well.

"Clara and I know you mean well, Rachel," Tomás tells her.

"Yeah?"

Tomás nods and Rachel reaches out and hugs him back.

"Does this mean, I can go?" Santana asks.

"Yes, you can go, San," Tomás says.

"Thanks papa."

"Yes, thank you, Tomás," Rachel says. "And I can trust you and Clara to keep your knowledge of Quinn's sexuality to yourselves? I know Quinn isn't completely comfortable about it yet and if she knew that you knew…"

"Of course, Rachel," Tomás replies. "I understand."

"Thank you."

"Good. Now that that's settled, do you have time for some Chess before you head home?"

**…**

Quinn's been on edge all day. She could blame it on the day starting with being chained to a fence, but she knows that's not it. She knows it's because of the upcoming weekend. If Santana doesn't get permission to go, Quinn's not sure if it's happening because a road trip with Brittany and Berry sounds too terrifying to even imagine. Berry might mean well, but that doesn't make her any less annoying.

She's distracted at dinner, but tries not to be. She's not ready to come out to her mother, but Quinn knows after the pregnancy, her mom might be a little more aware that something is off. And Quinn can't have that; at least not yet.

It isn't until she's finishing her AP European history reading that she receives a text from Santana. Apprehensive, she opens the message only to let out a sigh of relief when she sees that Dr. and Mrs. Lopez gave permission. First hurdle over with.

**…**

Of course the biggest hurdle is dealing with Berry when she's in full planning mode. Quinn's greeted the next morning by a bouncy and cheerful Rachel Berry full of plans and talking up a storm. Feeling only slightly annoyed, Quinn considers this character growth, since even a year ago, she would have probably said something cruel. Instead all she says is, "Can we talk about this later, Berry?"

"Of course, Quinn," Rachel replies. "Lunch perhaps?"

"Fine."

"Excellent. I shall see you then."

Watching Berry skip down the hall, Quinn has to wonder why the hell she had a crush on her for so long. But then she catches a flash of leg under the short skirt and remembers one of the reasons. Shaking her head slightly, Quinn returns to her locker.

**…**

At lunch, Quinn lets Brittany drag her into the choir room to discuss the weekend with Berry and Santana. Not wanting to walk in on the pair fooling around, Quinn knocks on the choir room door before entering loudly. Brittany follows behind her looking confused.

"Always have to make an entrance, huh, Q?" Santana quips from the chairs.

"Maybe I didn't need to watch you two audition for Girls Gone Wild."

"Quinn, if Santana and I were to engage in that sort of activity, we wouldn't do it where we could be so easily caught."

"Course not, Berry."

"Don't fight," Brittany says.

"Yeah, let's get this figured out," Santana adds.

"Okay. Well, the first thing to decide is who's driving," Rachel says. "Quinn what's your preference?"

"Yeah. I can drive," Quinn replies. "But can we all chip in for gas?"

"Of course," Rachel says.

"How long is the drive?" Brittany asks.

"About five hours," Rachel answers.

"Oooh."

"Not horrible," Santana adds.

"But shouldn't Rachy drive?" Brittany asks. "Since we're going to need transportation? I mean, aren't we just leaving Quinn with Alyson?"

"That's a good point, Britt," Rachel says.

"I can drive Q's car," Santana pipes up. "I've done it before."

"Yeah," Quinn says. "And after I vowed you'd never be allowed to again."

"What? Why?"

"Because you ride the brakes; plus, you drive _way_too fast and reckless. Oh and you left it a mess."

"You're exaggerating."

"With you, I don't have to," Quinn retorts.

"Fine," Rachel interrupts. "We'll take my car."

"Whatever," Santana says.

"Works for me," Quinn adds.

"Excellent. All right, next, the scheduled. I talked to Alyson and she said she's free after 3:30. She also said there's a party happening Friday night that we should go to."

"A party?" Brittany exclaims. "We're going, right?"

"I think we should," Rachel agrees. "And then San, Britt and I will return to the hotel. We can meet up with Quinn and Alyson for brunch on Sunday before heading out."

"Sounds good, babe."

"Yeah," Brittany adds.

"What about Saturday?" Quinn asks.

"I assumed you and Alyson would want some alone time," Rachel explains.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks," Quinn says. "What are you guys going to do?"

"I have a list of several different activities that people say are must sees."

"Of course you do."

"You should be nicer to Rachy, Quinn," Brittany says. "Especially since she's doing all the planning."

"Yeah Q."

"You're right, Britt," Quinn says. "Force of habit. Sorry Berry."

"It's understandable Quinn," Rachel says. "I'm sure part of your attitude stems from missing Alyson and the building anticipation."

"Not to mention fear of being outed," Santana adds.

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "That would be worrisome."

"You shouldn't worry so much, Quinn," Brittany says, pulling her into a hug. "Things will work out."

Quinn allows the hug, despite the agitated look on her face.

"It's fine," Quinn says. "Can we please not talk about it?"

"What time should we leave tomorrow?" Rachel asks. "I was thinking that we don't even bother going to school and just leave at ten."

"You'd be willing to skip?" Quinn asks.

"It makes sense to leave earlier," Rachel replies. "We certainly don't want to be arriving around eight at night. Correct?"

"Course not," Santana says.

"Great. So we'll meet at my house tomorrow at ten," Rachel pronounces.

"Cool."

"Works for me."

"Yay! Road trip."

"Good. Now that that's settled, I'm going to go and enjoy the rest of my lunch period," Quinn says.

"Bye Quinn," Brittany calls after her.

"Listen, Britt," Rachel says. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you about this trip."

"What's up?"

"Well, I booked us a king size bed. I mean that's what we usually do, but I didn't take Marisa's feelings on the matter into play."

"Oh."

"Right," Rachel says. "I'm going to call and change the reservation to two doubles. But I'm not sure if they'll be any available and so we'll have to come up with a back up plan."

"Well, who says you have to cancel it?"

"Because I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable sharing a bed if it's going to make things awkward between myself and Marisa."

"Marisa knows that we've had sex," Brittany informs Rachel.

"Oh."

Not surprised, Santana scoffs from her spot at the piano.

"And she said she was fine with it."

"This might be different, though," Rachel says. "I mean, have you slept over since you asked Marisa out?"

"No, I suppose I haven't," Brittany replies. "Still, I don't think it'll be an issue. But if you want, I'll talk to her tonight when we go out. Okay?"

"I appreciate that Britt," Rachel says. "I just don't want-"

"She gets it babe," Santana interjects. "We know how you just want everyone to get along."

"I dislike conflict. There's nothing wrong with that," Rachel huffs.

"And luckily, I find that adorable," Santana replies.

"Jeez, guys," Brittany says. "Get a room, already."

**…**

Hating to make the call at school, Rachel goes to the parking lot and sits in her car. She only hopes no one saw her head outside instead of towards the bathroom which is where she told her teacher she was going.

"Tommy," she greets after the third ring. "It's Rachel. I was hoping you could help me out with something."

**…**

Since Marisa's mom has to work and her brothers are staying over at a friend's house, Marisa offered to make Brittany dinner.

She's a little nervous as she waits for Brittany, hoping she isn't expecting more than Marisa is ready for. Beatrice had pointed out at lunch that Marisa's invitation sounded a bit like an invitation for sex.

"We've only been going out for a few weeks," Marisa replies.

"True," Beatrice agrees. "But she's a very experienced senior. Maybe she thinks you're making your move."

"Oh god," Marisa groans.

"Sorry."

Marisa then spent the rest of the afternoon, trying to decide what to do about the situation. Finally near the end of last period, she decides to just handle it honestly. Marisa feels fairly certain that Brittany would never push her, so that's not her concern. It's just, for some reason, it feels like she's setting Brittany up for disappointment. Still, Brittany's been quite honest with Marisa, so she's not worried about being just as honest with Brittany.

**…**

Because they told her parents that they're leaving right after school Friday afternoon, Santana really has no justification for wanting to spend the night at Rachel's beyond the usual. Still because it's Thursday, she is allowed to spend the evening, which is why she's sitting at the kitchen table pretending to do her homework while Rachel bakes.

Santana blames her lack of concentration on Rachel, who is particularly distracting this evening. Besides the fact that her girlfriend is adorably gliding around the kitchen barefoot and wearing a frilly, flower covered apron; there's also the blissful smile on her face as she makes oatmeal raisin cookies and softly sings _Cabaret_.

Rachel won't tell her why she's making the cookies, though she does admit some of them are for their trip tomorrow. Santana's grateful for the cookies, but curious about the secrecy. Figgins took the Cheerios off probation and so that's no longer a concern. Rachel usually makes cookies to thank someone, causing Santana's brain to jump to outrageous reasons why Rachel would be making _secret_thank you cookies.

She tries to shake it off. Santana trusts Rachel. She hates being kept in the dark, though.

**…**

Of course, it turns out that Marisa worried over nothing. Brittany hadn't seen the invitation as anything other than dinner and a movie. The only difference being that they're able be a bit freer with their hand holding and kisses.

"Listen," Brittany says once the movie's finished. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

"All right."

"As you know, Rachel, Santana and I are going with Quinn to see her girlfriend in Pittsburgh."

Marisa nods.

"The three of us will be sharing one king sized bed," Brittany continues. "But if that bothers you, Rachel said she'd call and try to get a room with two doubles."

"Why did Rachel get just a king size bed in the first place?" Marisa asks.

"Habit I'm sure. It's what we usually do. Plus, I think she was distracted when she made the reservation."

"Oh."

"If you're worried about seeming uptight, you're definitely not," Brittany assures her.

"No. It's not that, exactly," Marisa replies. "And it's not like I don't trust you. Or Rachel. I just… It's weird to think of you sleeping in the same bed as them. Especially since you guys _have_slept together."

"Do you want me to text Rachel and tell her to change it?" Brittany asks. "It's no problem and Rach would definitely understand."

"I don't know."

"Marisa," Brittany says. "It's okay if you're not comfortable with it."

Marisa sighs. "No, it's okay. I just… Promise me, you'll be honest with me."

"Um…"

"Just if anything happens, please just be honest with me about it."

"Of course I would," Brittany replies. "But nothing's going to happen."

"Still…"

"Okay, we're going to put an end to this right now." Brittany pulls out her cell phone and dials Rachel.

"Rachel's phone, whadda want?"

"San? It's Brittany, can I talk to Rachy?"

"Uh, hold on, she's baking."

"Put her on speaker," Brittany commands.

"Hey babe. It's B and she wants to talk on speaker."

"All right."

"Hello Britt," Rachel says loudly. "What can I do for you?"

"Marisa and I were just talking about the hotel situation," Brittany explains.

"Ah. Hello Marisa."

"Hey Rachel," Marisa calls out. "Sorry to interrupt your—"

"Don't be silly," Rachel replies. "I'm just baking cookies."

"For the trip?" Brittany asks.

"Some of them will be," Rachel confirms. "I'll make sure Britt brings you some, Marisa."

"Thanks, Rachel."

"So what's the problem here, folks?" Santana throws out.

"Oh yeah," Brittany says. "Marisa here is worried that her not wanting us to sleep in the same bed is causing too much trouble."

"Kid, we live for trouble," Santana says.

"Marisa, it's fine," Rachel adds. "In fact, this entire situation is my fault. I admit to being a bit distracted when I made the reservation, but I really should have just made it for two doubles."

"It's not that I don't trust you guys," Marisa says.

"Look kid," Santana says. "If anyone's going to understand the jealousy thing, it's going to be me."

"Isn't that the truth," Rachel quips.

"So if B sleeping in the same bed as us, tweaks you, it's fine. Rach will fix it. Right, babe?"

"I will indeed."

"No," Marisa sighs. "It's fine. I trust you guys. I know nothing's going to happen. And I know how touchy feely Brittany is. I just…"

"I'd invite you with, Marisa," Rachel says. "If I didn't think Quinn would freak out."

"Yeah, Q would totally freak," Santana agrees. "Although, I don't know why. It's not like the kid doesn't already know. Right?"

"I can't anyway," Marisa replies. "I have a family thing on Sunday. But thanks."

"So you're really okay with the bed thing?" Rachel clarifies.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Well if you change your mind, just let us know," Santana says. "We can just push Britt onto the floor. Right, babe?"

"Ha ha, San. Maybe I'll push you off the bed and it'll be just me and Rachy." Marisa elbows Brittany. "Ow. Or not."

"Well if that's all settled, I must return to my baking," Rachel says. "I'll see you tomorrow, Britt? Marisa, have a nice weekend."

"You too, Rachel."

"Will you hang up my phone, now please?"

"What am I, your slave?" Santana questions.

"Yes," Rachel replies.

"Watch it."

Brittany ends the call. "You're really okay with it?"

"I think so," Marisa nods. "Yeah, I am."

"Good. Do we have time for another movie?"

"Uh, not really."

"Oh. Okay. Wanna just make out for a while then?"

"Um… Okay."

**…**

At midnight, Rachel finds herself huddled in her car in the parking lot of McKinley, waiting for the Saunders brothers to show up. She knows she's being ridiculous. Missing one day of school is hardly noticeable, especially during one's senior year.

Or maybe she just wants to play a prank. After all, though she did pull three in rather quick succession, because they were motivated by an outside force, they don't really feel like hers. And this? Well, no one else knows she's doing it.

Rachel holds her breath as a truck pulls into the parking lot. In the darkness, it's difficult to tell if it's Tommy's or not. It parks. A moment later, Rachel's cell vibrates in her jacket pocket.

"Hello?"

"It's us," Billy says. "Is that you in the hybrid?"

"It is," Rachel replies. "Did you bring them?"

"We did."

"Great," Rachel says. "I'll meet you by the gym door and we can sneak in there."

Rachel slips out of her car and goes to the familiar side door. With almost no effort, she picks the lock. Inside, she quickly finds the door stop and props it open just in time for Tommy and Ron to appear. Billy is right behind them. After one more trip for all four of them, Rachel closes the door quietly and turns on her flashlight.

"Okay," Rachel says, pulling out a map of the school. "I've figured out how you can do this without getting cornered anywhere. We're here." She points to the large X at the edge of the page. "If you start here." She points to the opposite side of the paper. "You should be able to finish back here. And then, hopefully slip out unnoticed."

"What about the cookies?" Ron asks.

"Um, if you don't mind me breaking into your truck, I'll leave the first payment on the seat," Rachel replies.

"Yeah, that's fine," Tommy says. "You really made us six dozen cookies?"

Rachel nods. "Sure. One dozen sugar cookies, two dozen chocolate chip, two dozen peanut butter, one dozen oatmeal raisin."

"You're ridiculous," Billy says, pulling Rachel into a hug.

"In comparison? It hardly seems fair," Rachel replies.

"We're glad to help out too," Ron adds.

"Yeah, but four dozen cookies an hour hardly seems fair," Rachel says.

"You might change your mind after you make seventy-two more cookies," Tommy points out.

"True."

"Besides," Billy adds. "We all graduated from McKinley, so we're glad to play any part in a little rebellion against the school."

"Thanks guys, you're incredible."

"We'll send a text when we finish," Tommy says.

Rachel nods. "Okay. Good luck. I'll give you a call Sunday when I get back."

She gives them all each another hug before sneaking back out the door and to her car.

She makes it home in record time. Knowing Noah's phone is off, she texts him while still sitting in her garage. _You're welcome. Try not to get into too much trouble today_.

**…**

Rachel gets a text from Billy at 3:53 a.m.

_Just finished. Wish I could watch the results_.

Blinking a few times, Rachel manages to type out a response.

_You guys are amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you ten dozen more cookies. Let me know what kind you want them to be. _

Not expecting an answer, Rachel lays back down, hoping to catch a few more hours of sleep.

**…**

Friday morning, Puck checks his phone as he's climbing into his truck. He's surprised to see he has a text message already, though seeing it's Rachel, he realizes he shouldn't be.

He reads it over twice before he remembers that Rachel is skipping today so she, Santana, Brittany and Quinn can drive to Pittsburgh for the weekend. This brings a smirk to his face; he wondered how Rachel would deal with cutting class today.

Knowing that school will most likely be cancelled, he can't help but sing along with the radio as he drives to school.

He pulls into the parking lot and sees the familiar sight of the students milling around, trying to figure out what's going on.

He finds Mike and Tina standing near the edge and approaches them.

"Prankster?"

"Seems like it," Tina says, eyes still on the school. "But we can't figure out what was pulled."

"I overheard some of the teachers," Mercedes says, approaching the trio. "Something about the floor being _too_waxed?"

"Is that even possible?" Tina asks.

"I've heard it is," Puck replies. "And that if you wax a floor enough, it can be made slippery enough to be like walking on ice."

"Awesome," Mike says.

"Does this mean school is canceled?" Puck asks.

"Hopefully," Mercedes replies.

Knowing that an announcement is coming soon, they simply stand and watch the chaos.

**...**

Despite her late night, Rachel is still up by seven to complete her morning routine.

Not expecting anyone to stumble in until after nine, Rachel eats her breakfast slowly as she goes over her life plan checklist and then her prank ideas. It's nice. She rarely has time in the morning to be leisurely and so relaxed. There's something about being alone in the early morning hours that just feels so much positive than being alone during the late night ones.

"Honey, I'm home."

"I'm in the kitchen," Rachel calls out in reply.

"Damn," Santana says, strolling into the kitchen. "I was hoping if I was early enough, I could catch you in the shower."

"Sorry. Already did all that. Now I'm just enjoying the quiet."

"Oh. Is that a hint?"

"Don't be silly," Rachel replies. "You know I love when you're around."

"Cool. So what are you up to?"

"Just going over some prank ideas."

"Awesome. We should pull another one together soon," Santana says.

"I agree," Rachel replies. "Maybe a Halloween themed one for next month?"

"Works for me."

**…**

Brittany shows up next, bouncing into the house humming and singing random words.

"Christ B," Santana says. "You act like we're going to Disney world."

"Quinn's going to visit her girlfriend," Brittany says. "It's definitely a day I'd never see happen."

Santana chuckles. "That's certainly true."

"You guys are so mean to each other," Rachel says, entering the kitchen.

Brittany shrugs. "It works for us."

"I suppose it does," Rachel replies. "Listen. Is Marisa really okay with the bed thing? I feel like an inconsiderate friend for not remembering."

"Rach, it's fine," Brittany tells her. "You were distracted by trying to clear the Cheerios. And Marisa and I have only been going out for a couple weeks, so I understand if it wasn't in the fore front of your brain when you made the reservation."

"Thanks."

"She said she was okay with it, but part of me wonders if we should sleep in separate beds anyway."

"Look, can I say something?"

Brittany and Rachel turn to Santana.

"Technically, you're really touchy feeling, B, right?"

Brittany nods.

"Like if we doubled one night and watched a movie on Rach's couch, I totally wouldn't be surprised if you cuddled up to Marisa while you're pressed against Rachel. And it'd be cool. Right?"

"I guess."

"Us sharing a bed is the same thing," Santana continues. "I mean, if we were going to have sex, it wouldn't matter how many beds were in the room. It'd still happen, right?"

"Course. Beds are for wimps."

"So, maybe you get your own blanket, but we'll still cuddle. You think the kid'd be okay with that?"

"You do make an excellent point," Rachel says.

"Don't sound so surprised, babe."

"Maybe, I'll call Marisa quick," Brittany says. "I'll be right back." Pulling out her cell phone, Brittany disappears upstairs.

"Does your logic to apply to you and I as well?" Rachel asks Santana.

"As long as their intentions are pure," Santana replies. "Like I trust Puck to not try and cop a feel. Finn? Not so much."

"Understandable, I suppose."

"You think B's going to be on the phone long?"

"I have no idea. Why?"

"Wanna make out?"

Rachel smirks. "I thought you'd never ask."

The doorbell rings just as their lips make contact.

"Why did she ring the doorbell?" Santana asks.

"We would have had to stop once she came into the room, San," Rachel points out.

"Not necessarily," Santana replies. "If we'd ignored her, she probably would have gone looking for Britt."

"I'll say it again. _Mean_."

**…**

Santana lets Quinn in while Rachel begins loading her car.

"The door was open," Santana tells Quinn.

"So? This isn't _Friends_. I'm not going to just walk in."

"Why not? I do."

"As if I'd follow _your _example."

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"Isn't it a little early for that?" Rachel comments as she passes on her way back to the kitchen.

"Like you haven't been up for hours, Berry," Quinn calls after her.

"Maybe so, Quinn," Rachel says, returning. "But when dealing with you, I find the farther into the day I am, the better."

Santana chuckles as Quinn scoffs.

"And you call me mean," Santana says.

Rachel shrugs.

"So apparently school was canceled," Brittany says as she walks down the stairs.

"Prankster?" Santana asks.

Brittany nods.

"How fortuitous," Rachel says.

"Agreed," Quinn says.

"Yeah, that's great, but can we pack up our shit and get going?" Santana asks.

"My stuff's already in the car," Brittany says.

Quinn points to her bag on the floor.

"Car's in the garage," Rachel says. "I'm already loaded."

"Great," Santana says. "I'll toss mine and Q's stuff in the back and we're good to go."

Rachel makes everyone use the bathroom before they leave, because she's schedule both lunch and bathroom breaks into her itinerary and she refuses to be dissuaded just because someone didn't go before they left.

"Jeez, chill Berry, it's not like we're starting an epic journey," Quinn says. "We're just going to Pittsburgh."

Rachel scoffs but ignores Quinn as she climbs into the driver's seat. With Rachel driving, Santana is next to her in the passenger seat with Brittany and Quinn in the back, though Quinn declares she's not sitting in the back the whole time.

"So what did the prankster do to cancel school today?" Santana asks once they're on the highway.

"Uh… Mike said that the floors had so much wax on them that it's impossible to walk on without slipping constantly."

"Nice," Santana murmurs.

"That hardly seems like enough to cancel classes," Rachel comments.

"It's like trying to walk on ice," Brittany says.

"Hmph. Still," Rachel replies. "The administration is most definitely slacking off."

"Maybe the prankster is just smarter than them," Santana defends.

"Still, it's been a year," Rachel replies. "How have they not figured it out yet?"

"C'mon, look at all the stuff that's been pulled," Santana insists.

"Are you guys really arguing about this like you don't know who the prankster is?" Quinn questions. "_Everyone _knows it's you, Lopez."

"Actually, it's really not," Santana replies.

"It's not," Brittany adds.

"As if," Rachel says.

Santana elbows Rachel.

"Really, San? I'm driving."

"You started it," Santana retorts.

"Did you talk to Marisa?" Rachel asks Brittany.

Brittany nods. "Yeah. I did. And she did seem more persuaded by Santana's logic. So I think it'll be okay."

"Good."

"Yeah," Santana nods. "Kid has enough to deal with without that drama."

"No thanks to you," Rachel mutters.

"Oh my god," Quinn groans. "Am I going to have to listen to your domestic fights this entire drive?"

"Yes," Santana snaps.

"Hardly," Rachel says.

"Maybe it should be quiet time for a while," Brittany says.

"Agreed," Rachel replies, turning up the radio.

**…**

They arrive at Alyson's dorm a little before four. Thanks to Rachel's planning, they know just where to park as Quinn let's Alyson know they've arrived.

"I can't believe we survived this car ride," Brittany tells Rachel, now in the front seat.

"Five hours is hardly that long to be stuck in a car."

"Yeah, but Quinn's so damn nervous, I'm surprised she didn't spend the whole car ride ripping on you," Brittany replies.

"You know Santana wouldn't have stood for that."

"Me neither."

"Thanks, Britt."

"Hey guys."

Quinn is quickly out of the car, though she's not sure how to greet Alyson. Her girlfriend solves the problem for her, by pulling her into a hug.

"Hey Rachel," Alyson says, as she and Quinn pull apart. "Good to see you again."

"You too, Alyson."

They decide to split up so Rachel, Santana and Brittany can check into the hotel. They agree to meet at Big Jim's Restaurant and Bar in a few hours and then head to the party after.

"Why there?" Santana asks when they're back in the car again.

"Everyone says it's a must try if we're in Pittsburgh," Rachel shrugs.

"Yay!" Brittany says. "Food Coach doesn't want us to eat."

"I think that's all food, Britt," Santana says.

**…**

Rachel has chosen a Holiday Inn near campus because her dad gets a discount there. It's a nice enough place, though it reminds Santana of the few family vacations she was forced on when she was younger.

Since Rachel made the reservation, she goes in alone to check in while Brittany and Santana wait in the car.

"You okay Britt?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You're worried about your girl?" Santana asks.

"I know you're not her biggest fan, S," Brittany says. "But I like her."

"Hey as long as she's not going after Rach or breaking your heart, kid's good with me."

"Yeah?"

"Course, B," Santana replies. "I trust your judgment. If you like the kid, then she's cool with me."

"Thank San."

**…**

"So we lucked out this weekend," Alyson says as she leads Quinn to her room. "My roommate's visiting her boyfriend, so we've got the whole room to ourselves."

"That is nice," Quinn agrees.

Alyson waits until they're in her room and the door is firmly shut before kissing Quinn. She knows show her girlfriend isn't comfortable with PDA quite yet.

"I've missed you," Quinn sighs as they pull apart.

Alyson smiles. "I've missed you too."

**…**

Brittany goes right to the bed and begins bouncing on it. Rachel just shakes her head as she explores the room and bathroom.

"Not bad," Santana says, dropping her bag on the bed, careful to avoid the still bouncing Brittany.

"What are we going to do until we meet Alyson and Quinn?" Brittany asks.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm taking a nap," Rachel replies.

"That sounds like fun," Santana agrees.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "Nap time!"

"I'm serious, guys," Rachel says. "I didn't get to sleep until almost one last night because of the prank."

"How on earth did you pull that one off?" Santana asks.

"I know people," Rachel shrugs.

"You're going to get caught," Santana tells her.

"Not if people still insist on it being you," Rachel replies. "Like Quinn earlier."

"I think Quinn just likes messing with Santana," Brittany throws out.

"That sounds about right," Santana grumbles, settling on the bed.

"I'm going to call Marisa," Brittany says as Rachel joins Santana on the bed.

"Okay."

Brittany closes the bathroom door and sits on the edge of the bathtub.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's Brittany."

"Oh. Hi."

"Don't sound so surprised," Brittany smiles. "I said I'd call later."

"I know. I didn't expect you to call so soon," Marisa replies.

"Oh. Well, we're here. We dropped Quinn off and checked into the hotel."

"Cool."

"Listen, I've been thinking. And I wanted to make sure that you're really okay with the sleeping arrangement."

"Yeah. Yeah, I really am. I've been thinking about it and Santana was right. You're still really handsy with them both and I'm usually okay with that. And I really do trust you guys. I know you or Rachel wouldn't do that to me."

Brittany lets out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Plus, I like how worried about it you are," Marisa continues. "It means that you actually care."

"Of course I do," Brittany replies. "I really like you, Marisa. I wouldn't have asked you out otherwise."

Marisa smiles. "Thanks."

"Yay, you're smiling," Brittany says. "I can tell."

"You can?"

"Uh huh."

"Cool. I should go. I'm supposed to be watching my brothers and the house is too quiet."

"Okay. Bye. I'll call you later."

"You don't have too, Britt," Marisa tells her.

"I will. Okay?"

"Okay."

**…**

"No running this time, right?" Alyson asks, kissing Quinn.

Curling into Alyson, Quinn pulls the sheet around them. "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that."

"I understand," Alyson tells her.

Quinn looks at Alyson's alarm clock. "We better get dressed. We probably should leave soon. We'll hear about it, if we're late. Berry's a stickler for punctuality."

"What do you suppose they're up to?" Alyson asks.

"I wouldn't even hazard a guess," Quinn replies.

**…**

By the time dinner is over, they still have time to kill, so Brittany suggests hanging out in the hotel for a while.

"Jesus Berry," Quinn says as they walk into the room. "Big enough?"

"I got a good deal," Rachel replies. "Who I am to say no to a bigger room."

"Couch seems comfy," Alyson says, plopping onto the floral print. "I mean, for a hotel couch."

"The bed's awesome," Brittany adds, flopping backwards onto it, just barely missing Santana who is already sprawled out on it.

"Watch it, B," Santana grumbles.

"You're taking up over half the bed," Brittany points out. "And you're in the middle."

"So?"

"So, you get what you deserve," Rachel says, stretching out on the other side of her. She rolls onto her side and faces Alyson and Quinn on the couch. Santana slides closer and throws an arm over Rachel. Brittany follows suit. "So how are things, Alyson?"

"Busy. Between all my classes and practice, I could definitely use a break. Your visit has perfect timing."

"She's co captain of the team," Quinn adds. "And she's only a sophomore."

"It's not that big of deal," Alyson says. "I mean, I'm just a _co_captain."

"I still think it's impressive," Quinn insists.

"Awww, Quinn," Brittany says. "You're so proud."

Quinn blushes and ducks her head against Alyson's shoulder. Alyson kiss the top of Quinn's head.

"I think it's cute," Alyson says.

"I agree," Rachel pipes up.

"I don't need your approval, Berry."

"Be nice," Alyson says.

"I am," Quinn replies.

"Yeah," Santana says. "Usually she's a massive bitch."

"_Santana_," Rachel warns.

"Santana isn't wrong," Brittany adds.

"There's a reason they call us the unholy trinity," Quinn says.

"Well _that's _certainly true," Rachel says.

"Maybe we should just watch TV," Alyson suggests.

**…**

The party is in full swing when they arrive. Brittany disappears right away and Santana goes off in search of alcohol with Rachel trailing after and warning her not to get weepy drunk.

Quinn just shakes her head. "Those two are like an old married couple," Alyson comments.

"They certainly bitch like one," Quinn agrees.

They wander around, find a drink and talk to random people. Alyson seems to know a lot of people. Quinn wonders if finding Alyson's popularity so appealing points to a lack of character growth. It's an odd thought to have in the middle of the crowded party, so Quinn takes a long drink of her rum and coke.

**…**

Enjoying her buzz, Santana watches Brittany and Rachel on the dance floor. They look good together, Santana can admit. Rachel may not have Brittany's natural ability, but all her various dance classes have made her look at home on the dance floor.

"Hey."

Leaning against a wall, Santana looks to her left and finds a blonde next to her.

"Hey," Santana says.

"I'm Hayley."

"Santana."

"Haven't seen you around before," Hayley says. "Freshman?"

"I don't go here," Santana replies. "And no."

"Ah, visiting for the weekend. Sibling?"

"Long story."

Hayley inches a bit closer. "It's kind of loud in here. Wanna go somewhere and talk?"

"I'm good here, thanks."

"What? Staring longingly at the dance floor," Hayley says, leaning closer. "Why not go with the sure thing?"

"I am," Santana replies. "I'm not interested. And I'm taken."

"And yet she left you here all alone to dance with someone else."

The music changes and both Santana and Hayley watch as people pair up. Rachel hesitates, but Brittany pulls her closer and wraps her arms around her waist. Santana watches Brittany whisper something in Rachel's ear; whatever is said causes Rachel to nod and lay her head on Brittany's shoulder.

"I don't know which of those bitches is your girl," Hayley says. "But she clearly isn't interested in you." Hayley faces Santana, putting both hands against the wall and essentially trapping Santana in place.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Santana replies. "Now leave me alone."

"C'mon," Hayley presses. "We could have a little fun, you and I. I bet she wouldn't even notice. It'll be worth your while. I'm _very _good."

"Look, I already told you-"

And then suddenly Hayley is no longer facing Santana. Instead, she's been spun around. Santana quickly steps to her right and can't help the smirk that forms when she sees Rachel looking _pissed_.

"What the fuck, bitch?" Hayley asks. Noticing the angry look, she grins. "Ah, you must be the girlfriend. Nice to see you could pry yourself away from that trollop to check on you girl."

Rachel slaps Hayley. It's very loud in the suddenly very quiet room. Santana wonders who turned off the music.

"Do not speak about things you don't understand," she warns. "Now I believe Santana asked you to leave her alone. I suggest you do so."

"Or what? _You're_going to stop me?"

"You have five seconds," Rachel tells her. "Five. Four."

"Don't make me laugh, midget."

"Considering you're barely taller than me, is that really an insult?"

"You didn't seem so concerned a few minutes ago on the dance floor," Hayley replies.

"This is your last warning," Rachel says. "After this, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh what? You know karate? I'm _so_scared."

Rachel smiles sweetly and then grabs Hayley's right wrist. Everyone watches as Rachel squeezes Hayley's wrist between her fingers and then twists it behind Hayley's back. They all watch as Hayley helplessly tries to grab Rachel with her left arm and cursing. After a few moments, Rachel uses Hayley's own momentum against her and pushes her out of the room. Everyone follows as the pair make their way to the front door. A few people notice that Rachel is whispering in Hayley's ear as they walk, but no one can tell what is being said.

When they reach the front door, someone opens it and so the pair continue to walk through. Once on the porch, they stop walking and everyone waits with baited breath for Rachel to toss Hayley into the yard. Instead, Rachel is still whispering to Hayley and after a moment, Hayley nods.

Rachel takes a step back, releasing Hayley. Hayley spins around to face Rachel and the crowd braces themselves for the attack. The sharp intake of breath almost brings a smirk to Rachel's face, but she manages to keep her face angry as she stares at Hayley.

"If I ever see you again," Hayley says. "The ending with be very different."

"Believe what you want," Rachel replies.

Hayley huffs, spins on her hell and stomps down the stairs towards her car.

An arm thrown around her, makes Rachel tense for a moment before she realizes it's Santana.

"You are so fucking hot," Santana tells her.

"I don't like other people touching what's mine," Rachel replies.

Santana just grins.

**…**

"Damn…"

"Trust Berry to cause drama even when we're in another state," Quinn says.

Alyson looks at Quinn, a bit surprised. "You think she was over reacting?"

Quinn sighs and tries to fight her natural instinct to rip on Rachel. "I don't know. I just know that Rachel Berry seems to thrive on drama."

"Well, knowing Rachel like _I_do, I think it's sweet. And Hayley Chambers is a huge player. She has like this sixth sense and is able to find the out-of-towner at every party."

"Interesting."

"She wouldn't have backed off either," Alyson continues. "Her ego is too big to accept no for an answer."

"Hmph, well then Berry probably saved her life. Depending on how many drinks Santana has had, it could have ended with a lot more violence."

**…**

Once the excitement is over, the party returns to normal as the music starts up again. Santana finds herself once again leaning against the wall, watching the dance floor, only this time Rachel is encircled in her arms, leaning against her, watching the dance floor as well. This time they're watching Alyson and Quinn near the fringe of people and Brittany, bouncing around in the middle.

"You know that whole thing was your fault," Santana says.

"Oh? How do you figure that?"

"Because that girl thought you were cheating on me with Brittany," Santana replies.

"Because we were dancing together?" Rachel asks.

"Apparently."

"Then it's Brittany's fault," Rachel says.

"Why is that?"

"Because she's like pure sex on the dance floor," Rachel replies.

"You guys _do_have chemistry together," Santana points out.

"And you guys don't?" Rachel questions. "You don't know how many parties I've watched you on the dance floor, knowing everyone around is pitying me because they think you two are having sex."

"Still?"

Rachel shrugs, not willing to talk about it.

"And it bugs you."

"Once in a while," Rachel replies. "It was almost cathartic to do that. I just want to go a whole week without someone reacting to me just because of something they inferred."

"Ha! Good luck with that babe."

Rachel sighs. "At least Quinn's having a good time. Right?"

"Looks like it."

"Good."

**…**

"Did you have a good time?" Alyson asks as she unlocks her door.

Quinn nods. "Anytime with you, is a good time."

"Luckily, I feel the same way."

"How tired are you?" Quinn asks.

"Not very. Why?"

"Because I was hoping for a repeat of this afternoon," Quinn says, taking off her shirt and throwing it at Alyson.

Grinning, Alyson tosses the shirt on her desk chair. "I like how you think."

**…**

"Hey Rach?"

"Yeah Brittany?" Rachel says as she pulls into the hotel parking lot.

"Can Marisa come next time we visit Alyson?"

"Um, I guess," Rachel replies. "As long as Quinn's okay with it."

"Good. Because I feel kinda bad about leaving her behind."

"Awww," Rachel coos as they walk towards their room.

"You're both ridiculous," Santana says as she reaches the door. Digging out her keycard, she opens the door and ushers them both in.

**…**

Rachel wakes up at eight sandwiched between Santana and Brittany. It takes a great deal of effort, but she manages to wiggle out and crawl out from under the covers. In the bathroom, she quickly changes into her work out clothes.

Back in the room, she finds the complementary notepad and pen and leaves a note for Santana. She grabs her room key and heads down to the gym.

**…**

When Rachel returns, both girls are still asleep, Brittany spooning Santana. It's cute. Smiling, Rachel grabs her things and takes a shower.

She's just finishing up when she hears the bathroom door opening.

"If you flush the toilet right now, I'm going to be quite agitated," Rachel warns.

The shower curtain opens slightly with a chuckle. A moment later, Santana steps into the tub and slides the curtain closed again. "Good morning."

"Good morning to _you_, tiger."

**…**

Sunlight is streaming through bit of the blinds and Quinn finds herself awake, blinking in the sunlight. She takes stock of her unfamiliar surrounds as she remembers she's visiting Alyson; which would be why she's currently being spooned.

Quinn lets herself just enjoy it for a moment. She never really got the opportunity over the summer, just the day Alyson left. Though she'd never admit it, she's jealous that Rachel and Santana seem to be able to wake up together any time they want. She's glad she met Alyson, she just wishes they'd be able to see each other more often.

"Stop thinking so much."

Quinn tries to look behind her, but Alyson just tightens her grip. "What?"

"I can hear the gears turning from here," Alyson replies. "It's early. Sleep now. Think later."

"Fine," Quinn sighs, closing her eyes.

**…**

After they take advantage of the hotel's continental breakfast, Rachel insists they come up with a game plan for the day. Santana argues that they don't need to do anything and they should just hang out by the pool all day; mostly because she enjoys a good natured argument with Rachel.

"I don't know why you would say that Santana," Rachel replies. "We both know that is _not_an option."

"I do?"

"Now I suggest we immerse ourselves in some culture. I suggest The Mattress Factory and Carnegie Museum. The Mattress Factory looks like a very intriguing museum that I believe you and Brittany will find just as interesting. And the Carnegie Museum? Well, I shouldn't have to explain that, right?"

"Um…"

"How about the zoo?" Brittany asks. "It's supposed to be pretty good."

"I vote for the zoo," Santana says.

"All right. At least it's a nice day out."

**…**

"So what are we doing today lazy pants?" Quinn asks Alyson hours later.

They're still in bed, wrapped up together. The sun filtering through the shades tells Quinn it's close to noon.

"Lazy pants?"

Quinn shrugs.

"I thought we could just hang out here, stay in bed, watch movies. Maybe go out to dinner later."

"That sounds good," Quinn replies.

"Excellent. Did I mention the part about us being naked until we go out?" Alyson asks.

"You may have left that part out," Quinn replies. "But I'll forgive you just this once." She pulls Alyson in for a kiss, smiling as her girlfriend's hands begin to reexplore.

**…**

Because it's the end of September, the zoo isn't all that crowded. They wander around, letting Brittany lead as they stroll through the zoo. They spend a lot of time watching the polar bears splash about. They don't seem to care that it's getting colder. Rachel suggests, they're probably excited about it.

"You know, if Polar bears get excited by the weather."

"Anything's possible babe."

**…**

Alyson takes Quinn to a quaint little café she knows that's queer friendly. They sit at a corner table, talking, laughing, occasionally kissing, but always holding hands. It's freedom Quinn never thought she'd have. She lets herself relax and just enjoy the evening.

**…**

Since they partied the night before, Rachel suggest they stay in and watch TV, but Santana says they're in a new city, so it's required to go out and have fun.

"C'mon babe," Santana says. "We'll go out dancing, come back, have sex in the shower and then sleep until we have to meet Q and Alyson."

"Yeah, Rach," Brittany says. "It'll be fun."

"Aren't most clubs 21 and up?" Rachel asks.

"Probably," Santana replies. "But we've got fakes."

"I don't," Rachel says.

"Actually you do," Santana tells her. "I had Puck get you one a while back. Figured it would come in handy one day."

"Santana wants to go to some gay clubs with you," Brittany offers.

"That too," Santana says looking embarrassed.

"That could be fun," Rachel concedes.

"So we're going out?"

"We're going out," Rachel agrees.

"Make sure you dress hot," Brittany says. "The hotter you look, the less likely they are to examine your ID."

"Yeah. Hot girls are good for business," Santana adds.

"I'm not sure I have anything appropriate."

"Here." Santana throws some clothes at Rachel. "I packed this for you."

Rachel holds up the extremely short dress. "So I won't be bending over tonight, I see."

"Nope," Santana smirks.

**…**

After dinner, they stay and listen to the jazz trio that plays every Saturday night.

"We could go do something more exciting," Alyson whispers to Quinn.

"All I care about is spending time with you," Quinn whispers back.

Alyson smiles and leans her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Me too."

**…**

Santana was right, of course. The bouncer barely looks at their IDS as he takes in their outfits.

"Be gentle," he tells Santana. "Don't break too many hearts."

"We're just here to dance," Santana smirks and walks inside.

"I've heard that before," he mutters as he accepts the next guy's ID.

**…**

"You're still coming for Halloween weekend, right?" Quinn asks Alyson as they enter the dorm room.

"Planning on it," Alyson replies. "I even talked to Coach about it and she excused me from my Friday morning practice. So I can sleep in a little, go to my morning class, and then drive down. I figure I'll be there around four."

"Excellent," Quinn says. "We'll probably have to go to Puck's Halloween party. He's already started bragging about his costume and claims the party will be epic."

"Sounds like fun."

"It's a toss-up with Puckerman," Quinn retorts.

"Well I'm looking forward to it anyway," Alyson says.

"Really?" Quinn asks. "You won't be missing any cool college parties?"

Alyson shrugs. "Maybe. But I bet I have more fun hanging out with you guys."

"Because I could probably drive up here again," Quinn offers.

"Naw," Alyson replies. "My roommate will be around that weekend, so that kinda sucks. Besides, it's nice to get off campus every once in a while."

"Okay. Good."

**…**

When they eventually stumble back to the hotel, Rachel is exhausted. She's not sure how exactly she made it back to the hotel.

They barely take the time to clean off their make-up and change clothes before collapsing onto the bed.

"I thought you guys were going to have sex in the shower again," Brittany mumbles, face half smashed against her pillow.

"Eh. Tired," Santana mutters back, snuggling back into Brittany and tightening her arm around Rachel.

"What she said," Rachel murmurs.

"Okay. Night guys."

**…**

Sunday morning, Quinn and Alyson take their time getting ready. Or rather, they end up having sex several times and have to reshower.

"Separate showers," Quinn says.

"I know," Alyson replies. "Besides, I'm the one that has to see these people every day. I definitely don't need them walking in on us."

"Yeah, but since I plan on coming back a lot, I don't want that either."

When Quinn gets back to the room, Alyson is already there, getting dressed. Quinn follows suit.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure," Quinn says, digging through her bag.

"Is Brittany dating Rachel and Santana too? Because she's always all over the two of them and no one bats an eye. Not to mention, they only got one bed in the hotel."

"Oh that's just Brittany," Quinn replies. "She's very touchy feely, especially with those two. I think it's because she and San used to, you know."

"And Rachel?"

"For some reason, Brittany seems to see Berry as her own personal teddy bear," Quinn shrugs.

"And the bed?"

"_That_… I don't know what to say. I know they share a bed all the time when they drink too much. And B did let it slip that they have all, uh, sex. But the three of them aren't dating."

"Oh."

"Britt just started dating someone actually," Quinn says. "Now that I think about it."

"And she's okay with the bed sharing?" Alyson questions.

Quinn shrugs again. "I guess. There was some debate about that on the drive up. But since B didn't seemed worried, I'm not going to."

"I never would have thought Rachel would have a threesome," Alyson comments.

"Yeah. Me either," Quinn sighs.

**…**

Bruch is relaxed and light heated. Brittany fills Quinn and Alyson in on the zoo, while Santana talks about the club. Rachel is more interested in what Alyson and Quinn were up to.

"That's creepy, Berry," Quinn says.

"I just want to make sure you had a good time," Rachel replies. "Details aren't necessary."

"Definitely not, Q," Santana adds.

"Shut up, S," Quinn snaps. "Like I haven't already heard too many of your details."

"Guys, it's too early for that," Rachel says.

"It's like noon, Berry."

"She means because we have a five hour drive ahead of us, Quinn," Brittany says.

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

"You should have let us order mimosas, babe," Santana says. "That would definitely calm us down."

"Not enough," Rachel mutters.

**…**

"Thanks for driving Quinn up here," Alyson says, hugging Rachel. "It was nice to see you too."

"Same here. We'll talk later about you visiting next month?"

Alyson nods. "I'll email you."

"Perfect."

"Santana. Brittany. Nice to see you as always."

"You too, Alyson," Brittany says. "You're being good to Quinn, right?"

"I promise."

"Okay."

Rachel drags Santana and Brittany into her car, so Quinn can have the illusion of privacy to say goodbye to Alyson.

"Call me when you're home?"

Quinn nods. "Well, I'll text you, but I probably won't be able to talk until after dinner."

"Course. Your mom probably wants to talk to you."

"Probably," Quinn agrees.

"It was great to see you," Alyson says, hugging Quinn tightly.

"Talk to you soon."

**…**

"No good bye kiss, Fabray?" Santana mocks as they drive away.

"Shut up Santana."

"You know how Q feels about PDA, San," Brittany adds.

"Really? Then why have I witnessed her and Fimbecile sucking face so often?"

"Santana, we've just started driving and you're already picking a fight?" Rachel asks. "Do I need to enforce a no talking rule for the rest of the trip?"

"Like you can be quiet for five hours, Berry."

"Quinn, since I am technically defending you, perhaps, mocking me at this moment isn't the best choice."

"Right. Never mind then."

Santana chuckles, but stops when Brittany elbows her.

"I still don't see why _Quinn _gets to sit in the front," Santana grumbles.

"Fair's fair, S," Quinn snaps.

Rachel sighs to herself and tries to ignore them.

**…**

Thankfully, Quinn and Santana doze off after about an hour of forced quiet time. Brittany, sitting behind Rachel, leans forward and the two of them spend the next three hours talking.

**…**

Rachel drops Quinn off first, assuming she can't wait to get away from Rachel. Pulling into Quinn's driveway, Rachel gets out to open the trunk for Quinn.

"I could have done that, Berry," Quinn says when Rachel hands Quinn her bag.

"It's not a problem, Quinn," Rachel replies.

"Listen, Ber-Rachel, I… I just wanted to say thanks. For all this. I totally don't deserve it, but I appreciate all the support with this whole, you know."

"I understand how difficult it is for you, Quinn," Rachel says. "While I wish you'd find other ways to deal with your insecurities, I do understand."

"Well, no matter what, I just wanted you to know, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Quinn."

"We don't have to hug, do we?"

"Only if you want to," Rachel chuckles.

"I'd rather not, if you don't mind."

"It's fine, Quinn," Rachel says. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Bye Berry."

**…**

"What was that?" Santana asks as Rachel reverses out of the driveway.

"Quinn just wanted to thank me for my support."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Good," Santana says. "I was worried she was being an ungrateful harpy."

"Really, Santana?"

"Sorry babe."

**…**

When they drop Brittany off, she hugs them both goodbye as if it's been years.

"Tell Marisa I say hi," Rachel

"Will do, Rachy," Brittany says. "Thanks for an awesome weekend."

"See you tomorrow, B," Santana calls out as they pull out of the driveway.

**…**

Just because they were on a road trip, doesn't mean they're excused for Sunday night dinner. So when Rachel reaches Santana's house, she parks off to the side, so Tomás can leave in the morning since she's staying the night. Then she and Santana grab their things out of the back and head inside.

"We're back," Rachel announces when they enter. Santana heads upstairs, taking Rachel's things with.

Rachel heads into the kitchen. She finds Tomás at the stove, stirring. He waves as he tastes the content of the large pot on the burner. Seeming satisfied with the taste, he lowers the heat and opens his arms. Rachel sinks into them as he wraps her up in a hug.

"Did you have a good time?" he asks.

"We did indeed."

"And Quinn?" he questions.

"I think she did too," Rachel replies. "I think it was good for her to get out of Lima a bit too."

"Yeah, this place is stifling as hell," Santana agrees, walking into the kitchen.

"Language," Rachel says.

Tomás chuckles as he pulls Santana into a quick hug.

"Good to see you, too, papa," Santana says. "Where's mom?"

"She should be back any moment," Tomás answers. "She had a quick errand to run."

"Oh. Okay. What's for dinner?"

"I made chili," Tomás replies.

"Awesome."

"And I also made a vegan friendly version for you, Rachel," he continues.

"Oh thank you, Tomás," Rachel says. "That is so sweet."

"Can't have you starving, can we?" Clara asks, entering the kitchen.

"Santana wouldn't let that happen," Rachel says.

"No way, babe."

"Well good," Tomás says. "Shall we eat?"

He carries the chili to the table and sets it in the middle as everyone settles down into their seat.

"I'm glad you girls could make it back in time for dinner," Clara says.

"Wouldn't dream of missing it, Clara," Rachel replies.

"God, Rach," Santana says. "You're already their favorite. Stop laying it on so thick."

"I don't know how you put up with her," Tomás says to Rachel.

"I have a very high pain tolerance," Rachel jokes.

"See," Santana says. "Totally their favorite."

"Don't worry, tiger," Rachel says. "You're still _my _favorite."

"I better be," Santana grumbles as her parents chuckle.


	33. Making a Splash

**Chapter Title:** Making a Splash  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Mike, Wendy, Emma, Figgins, Sue, Will, Missy, Quinn, Puck  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> In which Mike begins to figure things out, lots of movies are watched and Rachel steps up her pranks.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~9,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>While Mike is extremely grateful to the prankster for the day off, the timing of it gives him pause. He ends up hanging out with Artie, Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, Puck and Finn at Kurt and Finn's. The TV's on, but everyone's kind of just doing their own thing. It gives him time to think.<p>

The fact that school's cancelled for the day isn't anything unusual in relation to the prankster. The fact that Rachel, Santana, Brittany and Quinn are skipping today could be a coincidence, but Mike knows how much Rachel hates to miss school.

The identity of the prankster has been speculated on for months, almost an entire year actually, but no one has yet to figure it out.

The fact that the glee club receives a warning definitely implies that it's someone that cares about them, which narrows it down to someone in the group. Everyone always thinks it's Santana, but Mike's not too sure. Because while Santana has changed a lot since she and Rachel started dating, part of Mike still wonders if the idea of warning her fellow glee clubbers would really occur to Santana.

Rachel, on the other hand…

And Mike _has _seen her build some amazing things. The Halifax Gibbet for example. Mike had never even heard of a Halifax Gibbet, much less thought about building one. Yeah, the hugging machine came with instructions, but it seemed so natural watching her put it together.

He thinks back to some of the more elaborate pranks: the working castle, the slushie shower, the fireworks display; they all seem rather elaborate, even over waxing the floor. It's a simple sentence, but McKinley is a huge school; waxing that many square feet of linoleum takes a bit of planning.

As the pranks have become more complex, Mike has often thought that they must have studied the same tips Rachel did because only someone with incredible organizational skills could do something so intricate.

Not to mention the fact that it's been almost a year and _no one _really seems to have any clue who the prankster is. Speculation and rumor don't count.

But now that Mike knows Rachel possesses the skills to pull off the detailed and grand pranks, she really is the only likely suspect. In fact, he's kind of kicking himself for not realizing it earlier.

He also can't believe that _Finn_was right last year.

Of course the problem is, he doesn't know for sure. He knows he's right, but he doesn't _know_ he's right. However, confirming his suspicions isn't the only reason he wants to ask Rachel about it. He also just wants to _ask_about it. He's curious why she chained all the Cheerios, including her girlfriend to a gate. There has to be a story there.

He spends the weekend wondering if he has the guts to ask; if Rachel would answer truthfully. Because he wouldn't blame her one bit for denying it. After all, the more people that know, the higher the chances of being caught are. Though with absolutely no evidence, could Rachel be punished on word of mouth? Since Figgins hasn't suspended anyone for being the prankster, Mike guesses not.

He decides not to ask her. It's better if he doesn't know; the speculation is half the fun.

**…**

The moment Rachel steps foot inside McKinley, Monday morning, she has Becky at her side.

"Good morning, Becky," Rachel greets. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

Becky nods. "Charlie and I hung out all day Saturday. It was awesome. How was Pittsburgh?"

"It was lovely. I take it Coach Sylvester wants to talk to me?"

Becky nods again. "Yep. Said it's urgent."

"Well then, lead on, Ms. Jackson."

**…**

Coach Sylvester is journaling when Rachel enters. She sits and waits for the woman to acknowledge. When Coach Sylvester looks up after only a minute, Rachel knows she must rate pretty high in the coach's admiration.

"Berry. Good. We need to talk."

"How can I help you, Coach?"

"Well now that my Cheerios are no longer on probation, I thought it might be nice to issue some payback."

"I'm not sure I understand," Rachel admits.

"I'd like to pull a prank on Figgins," Coach Sylvester explains. "And you're going to give me an idea."

"I am?"

"You are."

"And then… You'll owe me another favor?" Rachel questions.

"Actually, no," Coach Sylvester replies.

"No?"

"No," Coach Sylvester repeats. "While I am more than willing to owe you over something like ruining your curly haired leader's day, I am not willing to owe you over that _you_caused."

Rachel manages to last over a minute in the staring contest before conceding.

"Very well. What did you have in mind?"

"Ultimately, I'd like a few things that I can stretch out over time like we did with William. However, since you will _technically _not be reaping any rewards from this, I'll settle for just one. But it better be good."

"Well, I do have one that could be done multiple times, that I was never sure if I could pull off," Rachel offers.

"Excellent, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "Let's hear it."

**…**

When Rachel exits Coach Sylvester's office, she finds Brittany waiting for her.

"Hello Brittany."

"Hi Rachel."

"How are things?"

"Good," Brittany replies. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Course you can."

"Well, I know you and San usually hang out together on Tuesday nights, but I was hoping that maybe me and Marisa could join you. It's just all we want to do is cuddle on the couch, but we can't really do it at her place because of her little brothers and it's always so crazy at my house."

"Um… Well, I don't have a problem with it. But of course we should probably check with Santana."

"Yay. Okay. I'll ask her," Brittany replies. "Thanks Rach." She hugs Rachel briefly and then skips off down the hall to find Santana.

**…**

Sue decides to implement Berry's idea today if possible. Since it can be pulled multiple times, she might as well begin the fun sooner rather than later. It's simple enough, though it is going to take a bit of coordinating, but that's Sue's forte. She can't wait to watch Figgins be completely flabbergasted by it. She has to hand it to Berry for this one because Sue's not sure she ever could have come up with something like this.

**…**

When Mike sees Rachel in the halls between second and third period, he unintentionally ends up asking if she wants to hang out later.

"I'm in the mood for some 80s dance movies," he says. "_Footloose_ and _Dirty Dancing_, maybe?"

"Yeah, that sounds like fun," Rachel replies.

"Awesome," Mike says. "I'll be over after I stop at home and grab the movies."

"See you then."

Mike continues to his locker. He hadn't planned on asking Rachel to hang out. It just sort of happened. It's not a bad thing; he has a good time hanging with Rachel. He just hopes he doesn't blurt out anything, like asking if Rachel's the prankster. That probably won't end well.

**…**

Watching Rachel's interact with Mike Chang gives Missy an idea. Now she just needs to talk to Wendy about it.

**…**

Principal Figgins climbs into his car after another long day with a sigh. Being the principal at McKinley has always been a trial, but this year already feels like a burden and it's barely started.

He's so lost in his own thoughts, he doesn't notice it at first. But after speeding up to catch a yellow light on Hawthorne Ave, it's difficult to miss. The roof of his car is making a rather obnoxious noise. It sounds a bit like a far off helicopter. He decreases his speed and the noise stops. He then speeds up and the sound becomes louder. Perplexed, he continues driving home. He'll have to call his mechanic tomorrow.

**…**

Mike must have left school before Rachel because she's only home moments before the doorbell rings.

It doesn't take long for them to get settled on the couch. Mike wants to watch _Footloose _first, since it's his favorite. Rachel doesn't have a preference, so she just nods as Mike slides the disc into the player.

Sarah Jessica Parker and Chris Penn have just arrived at the dance, when Mike pauses it and suggests they order pizza. Not feeling up to cooking, Rachel agrees and calls in an order. Mike tells her he'd be willing to try the vegan version as she's on hold.

"Really?" Rachel questions. "You don't have to."

"I'm curious."

"All right then," Rachel nods. "Yes, hi, this is Rachel Berry and I wanted to place an order for delivery."

Once the order is placed, Rachel hangs up and says, "About twenty minutes."

"Cool," Mike replies, hitting play on the remote.

**…**

When the pizza arrives, they stop _Dirty Dancing_. Jennifer Gray is just arriving at the party with the watermelon and so it seems like a good place to stop.

Once they have plates and drinks, Rachel wants to start the movie again, but Mike can't stop himself from blurting out, "Are you the prankster?"

Rachel blinks at him several times in shock. "What makes you ask?"

"Because there's _no one else_at McKinley that it could be," Mike replies.

"That's not true," Rachel protests. "There are several people who-"

"Actually, I think the list is very short once you start adding up the evidence," Mike interrupts. "One. Someone that would warn glee club. Two. Someone smart enough to get away with it. Three. Someone with excellent planning abilities to come up with some of the pranks. Four. Someone with the ability to build elaborate and massive contraptions. And five. Someone who can keep a secret."

"That still isn't conclusive."

"And while, yes, the argument still could be made that it's Santana, we both know it's not," Mike continues. "Yes, maybe she could build some of the things that have happened, but I don't believe that about all of them."

Rachel sighs.

"C'mon, Rach," Mike says. "I know I'm not like your _bro_or whatever like Puck, but-"

"It's not that Mike," Rachel tells him. "I value your friendship just as much as I do Noah's. It's just that the less people that know, the better. And too many people know already."

"Who else knows?" Mike asks, but then answers his own question. "Puck, obviously. Santana for sure. But who else?"

"Brittany."

"Yeah," Mike nods. "Nothing gets by her."

"So true."

"I have some bad news for you, Rach," Mike says after a moment.

"What's that?"

"I think more people are going to start figuring it out."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because of all the reasons I listed before," Mike explains. "And after the Halifax Gibbet, a lot more people know that you meet all my listed reasons. Before that, reason four was enough to stop the doubt. Well that and reason six."

"You didn't give a reason six," Rachel points out.

"I didn't," Mike agrees. "But it's someone having the guts to pull all these things off. So you might still be safe there because I'm not sure that everyone believes that yet."

"Really?" Rachel questions. "Then I'm not sure they're paying attention."

"People see what they want to see, Rach."

"Well now that you know my secret, I have no choice but to take you out," Rachel tells Mike.

"Uh… Listen, Rachel, I didn't-"

"Mike, I'm kidding," Rachel says.

"Oh right. I knew that."

"But please don't tell anyone else," Rachel continues.

"Of course not," Mike replies. "Your secret is safe with me."

**…**

Santana is just finishing her homework when she receives a text message from Rachel.

_Mike knows I'm the prankster._

You told him?

Santana texts back.

_He guessed._Rachel responds

_Do I need to talk to him?_

_I don't believe so. I see no reason NOT to trust him._

_What if he slips up and tells someone?_

_Such as who?_ Rachel questions.

Santana doesn't have answer for this, but she doesn't like it. _I don't know. I just don't like it._

_I know. _Rachel texts back. _The more people that know, the more risk there is._

Santana's just about to reply when Rachel texts again.

_We'll just have to take it one day at a time. Right?_

_Right. After all, I still have that favor from Coach Sylvester_. Rachel texts.

_Another good point, babe._ Santana replies. _What are you wearing?_

_Santana! If you wanted to sext, then you should have texted me earlier in the evening. It's already past my bedtime. I need my beauty sleep._

_No you don't_. Santana texts. _You're already gorgeous and you know it. But whatever, no sexting. I expect you to make it up to me tomorrow._

_Thank you, San. Good night. I love you._

_Love you too, babe._

**…**

Principal Figgins drives to McKinley slowly, not wanting to cause the obnoxious noise if he can help it. Even after two cups of coffee, it's a little too early to have to listen to the helicopter that has now become his car.

In his office, he makes a call to Burt Hummel and asks if he has time to look at it today. He doesn't, but he should tomorrow. Figgins tells Burt he'll drop it off after work.

**…**

Tuesday at lunch, Missy makes Wendy sit at an empty table instead of the Cheerios' one that they usually sit at. Wendy eats her lunch and nods along with Missy's plans as the blonde watches Rachel sitting with her friends at a nearby table.

"I thought we were going to let that be," Wendy says.

"We did," Missy replies. "And now we're trying something else."

Wendy sighs. "Please just don't get me killed, Mis."

**…**

Brittany tries to get Marisa to come to glee Tuesday afternoon.

"I'd really rather not."

"C'mon Marisa," Brittany says. "You don't have to join. I just… I hate the idea of you sitting somewhere else, alone, waiting for us."

"Doing my homework in the library isn't that big of deal," Marisa tells her.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure, Britt."

"All right, then I'll see you after."

**…**

Since Rachel still has some of the pizza from last night left, she's really not in the mood to order anymore. Thankfully, the other three understand this and are perfectly fine with Thai food and so Rachel calls up Amazing Thailand, the closest Thai place she's been able to bully into cooking vegan. She places the order and agrees to pay the outrageous delivery fee. After all, she's well out of their delivery range.

Since this is Brittany's idea. She gets to pick the movie. Brittany had been shocked to learn that Marisa had never seen _Reservoir Dogs_, which is Brittany's favorite movie. So tonight, she was going to fix that.

The four of them curl up on the couch, Marisa, Brittany, Rachel and Santana as Brittany hits play on the remote.

**…**

"I'm not really sure about this, Mis," Wendy says Wednesday morning after Cheerios' practice.

"Don't be ridiculous," Missy replies. "You already admit you have a crush on him, so what's the big deal?"

"Well, I guess I thought if he and I ever went out it wouldn't be part of some plot," Wendy answers.

"If that was really true, then you would have already approached him," Missy replies. "Even though you're only a sophomore, you're still a Cheerio. Besides, Chang is nice enough that he definitely wouldn't have brushed you off if you approached him."

"Maybe I just wasn't ready," Wendy retorts.

"Well get ready," Missy tells her. "Because this is happening."

"You're a god damn bitch," Wendy says.

"I know."

**…**

When Mike gets to his locker Wednesday morning, there are two Cheerios leaning against it. They look familiar; though he thinks that about all the Cheerios, because he's so used to just seeing them around. But when he reaches his locker, he realizes he really does recognize them. It's the red head and blonde who Santana hates; Rachel said something about them being over zealous.

"Excuse me, ladies," he says. "I need to get into my locker.

"_Hi Mike_," they reply as they move to either side of his locker.

"Not to be rude," Mike continues as he digs through his locker. "But what are you two doing here?"

"Waiting for you," the blonde replies. "I'm Missy and this is Wendy."

The red head, Wendy, waves.

"Nice to meet you," Mike says.

"We know it's last minute," Missy continues. "But are you busy Friday night?"

"I don't have specific plans, yet," Mike replies.

"Wanna go out on a date, Friday night?" Wendy asks.

"Um, well…"

"With both of us," Missy throws out.

"Uh…"

"Just think about it," Missy says. She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Wendy kisses him on the other and then they skip off down the hall, leaving Mike staring after them.

**…**

Mike makes a beeline for Rachel when he spots her at lunch.

"Hi Mike," Rachel says as Mike sits next to her.

"Hey Rach," Mike replies. "Question for you."

"All right."

"Those two Cheerios that Santana hates? The red head and the blonde? Why exactly does Santana hate them?"

"Um, because they kept hitting on me and wouldn't take no for an answer," Rachel answers.

"Oh."

"Uh, why do you ask?"

"They asked me out this morning," Mike tells her.

"Seriously?"

Mike nods.

"Well, that's… Good, I guess," Rachel manages.

"What's good, babe?" Santana says, sliding next to Rachel.

"Missy and Wendy asked Mike out this morning," Rachel tells her.

"And what was your response, Mikey?" Santana asks.

"I didn't know what to say," Mike replies. "They told me to think about it. But why do I have the feeling, they're just going to keep asking until I say yes?"

"It's kinda their M.O.," Brittany says sitting next to Mike.

"Do you even know who we're talking about B?" Santana asks.

"Of course I do," Brittany replies. "You're talking about your blonde and red headed nemesises. Right? Is that a word?"

"What _is _the plural for nemesis?" Rachel questions.

"Nemesi?" Tina suggests, sitting down across from Rachel.

"I think it's like deer," Artie says, joining them. "You can say, she is my nemesis. Or I have many nemesis."

"It sounds wrong," Rachel says.

"It does," Artie agrees. Though nemesises sounds really weird too."

"Does this mean you're some sort of super hero, San?" Brittany asks. "That you have two nemesis?"

"More like evil mastermind," Artie says. He then coughs, "Prankster."

Tina elbows him.

"Think it all you want people," Santana says. "But I swear on my Cheerios uniform that I'm not the prankster."

"She's not," Rachel adds.

Mike smirks. "So can we get back to my issue?"

"Which is what exactly?" Artie asks.

"He got asked out by those two crazy Cheerios," Brittany informs them. "The persistent ones that were bugging Rachel all summer."

"Both of them?" Artie questions.

"Uh huh."

"What is there to think about?" Artie asks. "You say yes."

"I don't know about that," Puck says as he sits next to Tina. "I mean, anytime two chicks out one guy, there's usually a hidden agenda. Right Britt?"

"Usually, yeah," Brittany nods.

"So?" Artie questions. "Two hot chicks—two Cheerios asked you out. I know you're on the football team, so dating's not like super difficult, but I still think that's huge."

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Tina says. "But I agree with Puck. They're up to something."

"Thanks," Puck says. "And _hey_! I can be right about things. Sometimes."

"Scheming Cheerios _is_something Pucky's very familiar with," Brittany adds.

"Yeah."

Mike looks to Rachel, who has remained surprisingly quiet on the subject.

"Rach?"

"It's your call, Mike," Rachel tells him. "But if you do say yes, then be very, very careful. I don't trust those two. Missy, especially."

"The blonde one, right?"

Rachel nods. "She's the brains of the operation."

"Wendy actually has a crush on you, Mike," Brittany says.

The whole table looks at Brittany in surprise.

"Yeah," Brittany continues. "I overheard her say something about it over the summer."

"What did she say?"

"Just that you seem like a good guy with a hot body," Brittany answers.

Mike blushes. Puck and Artie smirk and say, "Oooooh."

"Maybe you could counter with just taking Wendy out," Tina offers.

"Do you think they would go for that?" Mike asks.

Brittany shrugs. "Can't hurt to try."

**…**

Principal Figgins receives a call from Burt Hummel a little into lunch period. He explains that the seal around the windshield is loose and that's what's causing the helicopter noise.

"That's why it gets louder the faster you go," Burt tells him. "Though one thing you might want to know."

"Oh?"

"It looks deliberate," Burt says. "This can definitely happen on occasion, but usually it's pretty obvious. This looks like it was done just right to not be noticeable."

"Hmph."

"It's an easy enough fix," Burt continues. "It should be ready this afternoon."

Principal Figgins thanks him and hangs up. His immediate thought is that it's the prankster going after him, except it doesn't make sense. While yes the prankster has done things to his office, it's always been something the whole school can witness. He or she seems to thrive on the school's reaction. But this? This was done quietly, sneakily. That doesn't seem like the prankster's style. He groans to himself. Is he going to have to worry about a whole separate perpetrator?

**…**

"Are you going to confront them?" Rachel asks Santana as they walk to Santana's locker.

Santana sighs. "I'm not sure yet."

"They could just be moving on," Rachel offers.

"Do you really believe that?"

"No," Rachel replies. "The fact that they asked out one of my best friends raises flags for me. Though hearing that Wendy actually really likes Mike does explain it a bit."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that Missy isn't going to shake everything up."

"I'm sure she has some sort of plan," Rachel agrees.

"Think he'll go out with them?"

"I have no idea," Rachel replies.

**…**

When Mike sees Wendy in the hallway alone before last period, he quickly grabs her and pulls her into an empty classroom.

Wendy looks a little nervous and just stands there.

"Uh, sorry," Mike says. "I didn't mean to just yank you in here. But I wanted to talk a minute. If that's okay."

Wendy looks a little worried now, but just nods.

"I'm going to have to say no to the date with both of you Friday night," he tells her.

Wendy's shoulders slump, but she nods. "I figured as much," she grumbles, looking at the ground.

"Instead," Mike continues. "I was wondering if _just _you and I could go out on Saturday night."

Wendy looks up at Mike, hopeful. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Uh… Honestly? You're cute and Missy's kinda scary. Plus, I really don't want to date two girls at one time. No matter how hot they are and what they imply may happen."

"Um, really?" Wendy asks. "I thought that was every guys dream."

Mike shakes his head. "I dated Brittany while her and Santana were joined at the hip. I don't need a repeat of that."

"Um…"

"Just trust me on this," he tells her. "So what do you say? Saturday night?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Wendy replies.

"Awesome. I'll pick you up at seven."

**…**

Thursday morning, Emma arrives a little earlier than usual. She does this occasionally, wanting to enjoy the quiet for as long as possible.

She's going over her notes from the first month of the school year when someone knocks on her door. Startled, she jumps. Feeling embarrassed, she looks up and sees a very handsome blonde man in his thirties, smiling sheepishly. Emma stands and opens her door.

"Good morning," he greets. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's fine," Emma replies. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, right. My name is Jack Pace and I'm substituting for Mrs. Matthews while she's on maternity leave. However, I seem to be a bit early since I couldn't find anyone in the main office."

Emma looks at the clock on the wall. "Principal Figgins should be in any moment. I can come wait with you if you'd like."

"I don't want to interrupt your work anymore than I already have," Jack protests.

Emma can't help but smile. "It's fine. I don't mind. Besides if you're going to be here for the next few months, we'll be seeing more of each other."

"I would like that," Jack smiles. "And if you don't mind me asking, what shall I call you?"

"Oh. Yes, of course. How rude of me. My name is Emma. Pillsbury. I'm the school guidance counselor.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma. Another reason being a bit early is a good thing."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Jack says. "Meeting you first has made this entire day worth it."

Emma feels herself blushing. "Oh, I'm sure that's not true."

"Oh, but it is," Jack assures her as they reach Figgins' office. "Oh I see Principal Figgins has arrived. Thank you for keeping me company on my walk back. Hopefully I'll be seeing you soon."

"Of course. And if you have any questions, well, you know where my office is," Emma tells him, her face still warm.

"I do indeed. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Emma Pillsbury." Jack bows slightly and then disappears into Figgins office.

Feeling a bit like a naïve school girl, Emma lets herself smile a bit before returning to her office.

**…**

"Didn't you just bake tons of cookies last week?" Santana asks Rachel.

It's another Thursday evening spent in the kitchen watching Rachel bake. Santana doesn't mind completely because she usually gets to sample a few; plus homemaker Rachel is incredibly adorable in Santana's eyes. She decides to just enjoy the feeling of domesticity floating around instead of being freaked out. After all, it's not like it's news to her that she and Rachel already act like an old married couple.

"I did indeed," Rachel replies. "However, I need to bake more."

"Why?"

"I owe the Saunders' brothers more for waxing McKinley for me," Rachel answers.

"I still can't believe that you got them to wax the entire school for cookies."

"Well, four dozen cookies an hour is apparently quite convincing."

"Still."

"Well, they seem to enjoy sticking it to McKinley as well," Rachel says. "Even if Figgins' was only principal for Billy's last year there, it may still feel like they're fighting back against an unfair system."

"Seriously?"

"Merely a guess," Rachel shrugs. "Maybe they just enjoy causing chaos."

"Hmph. Hey did you tell Chang that Coach Sylvester knows you're the prankster?"

"Absolutely not," Rachel replies.

"Why not?"

"Because it's something I can't explain. And I certainly don't want to get into Coach owing me a favor. Can you imagine if more people knew?"

"It definitely sheds a new light on the situation."

**…**

"What do you mean, he asked if he could take out just you?"

Friday morning, Missy and Wendy are in the far corner of the Cheerios' locker room, after practice. Wendy knows she better tell Missy about Mike's offer because if her best friend hears it from someone else, the accusations will start flying and then there'll be yelling.

"He said he doesn't want to date two girls at the same time," Wendy explained.

"I thought that was every guy's fantasy," Missy retorts.

"Apparently it's not his," Wendy replies.

"I suppose you accepted." It's not a question.

Wendy nods.

"Hmmm. Well, this could still work in our advantage…"

"Mis, no," Wendy protests. "The guy I've liked for a long time just asked me out. I don't want there to be a plan or any scheming. I just want to go out and have a nice evening."

Missy doesn't answer right away and Wendy's worried she's about to suffer the girl's wrath.

"Fine," Missy says finally. "I'll leave it. For now."

**…**

When entire week without a prank passes, everyone seems a bit on edge. Even though there's never been a set amount of time between pranks, the rapid succession that began with the start of the school year has taught everyone to stay cautious.

**…**

Figgins is in a relatively good mood when he walks to his car Friday afternoon. The week passed without any big, elaborate prank and though he knows there will most likely be something next week, for now he can relax. He has two days where he doesn't have to think about this place.

He doesn't notice the sound right away, but once he's out of the parking lot, the odd helicopter noise is unmistakable. He sighs. It seems that someone broke the seal of the windshield again. Grumbling under his breath, he decides to see if Burt Hummel is still in his shop. Maybe he can get it fixed before Monday.

**…**

Mike knocks on Wendy's door at exactly seven. He hopes he didn't make a mistake asking Wendy out. He trusts that Brittany is correct about Wendy's crush, though, so he's pretty sure this will just be a normal date with no sinister overtones.

He hopes.

Surprisingly, Wendy opens the door. He expected a parent who would interrogate him. After all, he is a senior and Wendy is a sophomore. Though, speaking from experience, her being a Cheerio can be intimating on its own.

Feeling cheesy, he hands her a single rose. He lets out a sigh of relief when she smiles and shyly accepts it. He offers his hand and walks her to his car, where he opens the door for her.

When he slides into the driver's seat, he looks over at Wendy.

"You look lovely tonight," he says and reverses out of the driveway.

**…**

When Noah shows up on her doorstep Friday night, Rachel knows she's about to be talked into doing something insane.

"Insane? You wound me, bro."

"Noah," Rachel sighs. "Just tell me already."

"I want to learn how to shoot arrows."

"What is your obsession with sharp flying objects?" Rachel asks.

"C'mon, it'll be fun," Noah says. "And useful."

"How would it useful?"

"I don't know. Maybe you get stranded one day and have to learn to hunt with a bow and arrow."

"You know how I feel about eating animals, Noah."

"So if the choice was eating a rabbit or dying, you'd choose dying?" Noah asks.

"Well, no," Rachel replies. "First I'd try to find plants that I could eat instead. And where am I stranded that I need to be hunting anyway? And where did I get the bow and arrow? Did I bring it with me?"

"All right," Noah says. "Not the best example. I can admit that. But we're doing this."

"Fine," Rachel sighs. "But no drinking during."

"Agreed."

**…**

Mike takes her the Breadstix, partly because it is some sort of evil plot that involves making a scene, it'll be just as embarrassing for her. He feels bad for still not completely trusting Wendy, but he's heard some stories from Rachel. And he's pretty confident that she wasn't exaggerating.

And from what he can tell, Wendy is approaching the date with just as much caution. He wonders if it's because this first date is part of a more long term plan or if _she's _worried that his asking her out is part of some elaborate revenge plan from Santana. He doesn't know what went down between Rachel the two Cheerios, but whatever it was, was enough to cause Santana to growl every time either's girls' name is brought up.

Usually it's amusing. Tonight, it's a bit nerve racking.

However, as the evening progresses, it becomes easier to relax. The more time Mike spends with Wendy, the less sinister she seems. He remembers that Rachel called Missy the ringleader and Wendy's the follower. For some reason, this seems to help put him at ease. Plus, Rachel did say alone, Wendy's intentions are most likely pure.

Once they start talking about movies, the conversation picks up. They argue about their favorites and make recommendations to each other. Mike even comments at one point that he's going to force Wendy to watch his favorite movie since she's never seen any Monty Python.

They end up staying there talking until they're kicked out.

**…**

Despite the fact that Santana arrived at Rachel's bright and early and they've spent the day in bed, Santana is still annoyed when Rachel answers Mike's call.

"I want to know how his date went last night. "Don't you?"

"I guess."

"Hello Mike."

"Hey Rach," Mike replies. "I didn't interrupt anything did I?"

"I wouldn't have answered the phone if that was the case," Rachel tells him.

"Well that's reassuring," Santana mumbles.

Rachel elbows her.

"Oh. Cool. So you were right. Wendy's a sweetheart."

"Awww, good. So you had a good time?" Rachel asks.

"We stayed at Breadstix talking until we got kicked out," Mike tells her.

"I'm glad."

"You gonna ask her out again?" Santana asks, leaning over Rachel.

"Yep," Mike smirks. "We're going to a movie Sunday afternoon."

"Not today?"

"She already made plans with some other underclass Cheerios," Mike replies.

"Let's just hope Missy doesn't get involved in this," Rachel says.

"Mikey just has to be charming enough to make Wendy fall for him and it'll be fine," Santana says.

"_Hey_, I can be charming," Mike replies. "Just ask Britt."

"I know you can be, Mike," Rachel says. "Ignore Santana. She's just irritated that I answered my phone."

"She just jealous about how much you like me," Mike says.

"You wish, Chang," Santana snaps.

"No, _you _wish, Lopez."

"I'm glad you had a good time, Mike," Rachel interjects. "What movie are you seeing tomorrow?"

"They're doing a double feature of _Singing in the Rain_ and _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_."

"Nice," Santana says.

"Seven Brides is a ridiculous musical," Rachel says.

Mike shrugs. "I know the plot is insane, but you have to admit the dancing is amazing."

"That I can agree with."

"There's a musical you don't like?" Santana asks.

"We'll watch it one day and then you'll understand," Rachel replies. "Plus, it's not that I don't like it. I'm simply saying that the plot is absurd."

"Okay then. Well good luck, buddy," Santana says. "But Rach has to go."

"Um, apparently I do," Rachel says. "Good luck and I'll see you Monday."

"Bye Rach. Santana."

**…**

As Rachel breaks into McKinley again, very early Monday morning, she finds herself thinking about Mike's discovery that she's the prankster. His list of reasons seem so obvious when he lists them and yet no one else has figured it out. Well, Brittany figured it out and so did Coach Sylvester, but Rachel feels like those are special cases.

She wonders if that means she should be cutting back on pranks; maybe taking a break, like a month or so, instead of planning a week of theme pranks. Plus, just because her pranks are in honor of Fire Safety week, doesn't mean anyone else will get it.

Maybe a break would be a good idea, after this week. She's already put in too much time and planning to abandon this week's pranks.

Well, maybe not a _whole _month, since she has a Halloween prank planned as well.

Then again, Rachel thinks as she heads up to the roof, maybe a longer break would be a good idea, since her ideas are becoming insanely elaborate, which require a lot more work than stealing the school's supply of baseballs.

Maybe she'll discuss it with Santana later.

**…**

Monday morning when people begin shuffling into McKinley, they're hit with water balloons. No one can figure out where they're coming from, though they only seem to hit people when they walk through the front door.

As with most pranks, people don't warn their friends. A lot of people stay by the door and watch as people enter, laughing at their outrage at being hit.

**…**

The number of people that receive warning texts has increased. And so though, the majority of the school walks into the building soaked, there are a couple dozen that stroll in with umbrellas or raincoats that stay relatively dry.

**…**

It isn't until the middle of third period that the janitorial staff finds a massive collection of water balloons on the roof. The balloons fall through several funnel like objects that lets one balloon fall at a time onto anyone who enters the school.

Tony, the head janitor, marvels at the number of water balloons they find still on the roof. It's his understanding that several hundred balloons have already fallen and there seem to be twice as many still left.

**…**

As always, the speculation about the prankster is the main topic of conversation. Those who were victims of slushies on a regular basis watch amused as the rest of the school complains about being splashed with water.

"Is it wrong that I'm a little disappointed that Santana didn't fill the balloons with slushie instead of just water?" Kurt asks Mercedes.

"Maybe she was afraid of giving Rachel flashbacks of her past cruelty."

"That actually seems quite probable," Kurt agrees.

**…**

Figgins' secretary hands him a note after lunch saying that his windshield has been fixed and his car has been dropped off and left in his parking spot.

**…**

Tuesday morning is the monthly staff meeting and everyone wants to know why Figgins has been yet unable to find the prankster.

"Do any of you have any idea who it is?" Figgins asks.

There's no response.

"Exactly."

"We can't put up with another year of this," someone protests.

"What exactly are you all talking about?" Jack Pace asks.

"Ah, yes, our newest member," Figgins says. "Well, Jack, it seems this school has a prankster."

"An extremely devious, skilled and meticulous one," Emma adds. "He or she has been terrorizing this school for over a year now."

"But no one knows who it is?" he asks.

"It's none of the usual suspects," Figgins answers. "I had hoped that it was one of last year's seniors and that it wouldn't be a problem anymore, but apparently not."

"Um, all right."

"Ignore him, new guy," Sue says. "His ability to sniff out a suspect is akin to his ability to speak Portuguese."

"I don't speak Portuguese, Sue," Figgins retorts.

"My point exactly," Sue replies. "Why else would you put my Cheerios on probation without any proof? You're grasping at straws."

"No one seems to know anything," Emma tells Jack. "Or if they do, they're not talking."

Sue pulls her cell out of her pocket and reads a text.

"Well, how bad can these pranks be?" Jack asks.

Everyone begins talking at once, listing off the various things that have happened over the last year. While this happens, Sue quietly slips out of the room.

"All right, all right, _all right_," Figgins says, trying to restore order. "Let's not overwhelm the man. This is school isn't perfect, but what American high school is."

Emma's cell phone buzzes. She pulls it out and pales slightly. Looking around, she tries to remain calm. It doesn't work.

"I need to go," Emma says, standing up abruptly. "I'm, um, not feeling so well. Uh, Jack, would you mind accompanying me to the nurse's office?"

"Emma," Figgins says. "You know we don't have a nurse."

"Yes," Emma agrees. "But we do have nursing supplies."

"Of course I'll walk you there," Jack says standing.

"I could go with you, if you'd like, Em," Will speaks up.

"That's all right, Will," Emma says. "I figure I can give Jack a bit more background on the prankster as we walk."

"Oh. Okay."

Jack offers Emma his arm and the two stroll out of the room.

"So what are you going to do about the prankster?" Will asks Figgins.

"I'm willing to hear ideas," Figgins replies. "Anyone?"

Emma's abrupt exit gives Will pause. He looks around the room, trying to see what kind of prank could be set up. He then pulls out his cell phone, but there are no missed calls or texts. He wonders what he did to piss off the prankster. Will then wonders about Emma taking the new guy with her instead of him. His only conclusion is that Emma wanted to spare him since it's his first week.

At least he hopes that's the reason.

Will doesn't get to finish his thought because the room becomes chaos when water balloons seem to be flying everywhere. It doesn't take long for everyone in the room to be soaked. And yet the balloons keep flying. No one can figure out where they're coming from and they angrily and frantically leave the room.

**…**

Quinn is waiting for Rachel at her locker, Tuesday morning.

"Good morning, Quinn," Rachel greets.

"Hi Rachel."

"What brings you by my locker this fine Tuesday morning?"

"I wanted to say thank you again for helping me visit Alyson," Quinn says.

"Of course," Rachel replies. "You know I do love organizational projects like that. Besides, I'm glad you finally seem to be happy in a relationship."

"God, you're ridiculous," Quinn smiles.

"Such a sweet talker,"

"Yeah, well, simply saying thanks doesn't seem like enough," Quinn continues. "Especially considering what a bitch I was."

"I understand where it was coming from Quinn," Rachel replies. "But I appreciate the apology."

"I, uh, got you this to say thanks," Quinn says. "I would have given you it last week, but it took longer to get than I thought." She hands Rachel a white envelope.

Accepting it, Rachel opens it and pulls out two tickets.

"Two tickets to _West Side Story_?"

"Yeah," Quinn nods. "I figure you and San can go Saturday night."

"Quinn, you didn't drive to Columbus to get these, did you?"

Quinn looks embarrassed. "I might have."

"That is so sweet," Rachel gushes. "Alyson is a very lucky girl."

"I'm glad you like 'em."

"I do. Thank you Quinn."

"Thanks for being so understanding, Rachel."

**…**

Even odder than the water balloon by the prankster is the sight of Mike Chang and Wendy Kory walking through the halls holding hands. Everyone is so used to seeing Wendy and Missy stroll down the hall together, that there are a lot of double takes.

**…**

Everyone notices that Mr. Schue seems to be in a terrible mood during practice. They all assume it's because the prankster struck again. Though none of them would admit it, they're all kind of glad that the prankster seems to go after everyone. No one is safe, students, popular or unpopular, the teachers, the administration, even the Cheerios.

Meanwhile, Will knows he's being a bit ridiculous, but he just can't get the image of Emma walking out of the meeting this morning, arm in arm with Jack Pace.

**…**

Because the prankster struck the students on Monday morning and the teachers Tuesday morning, no one suspects another prank for a few days at least. Most people assume nothing will happen again until next week.

Lunch is almost over when it happens. Just as it happened Tuesday morning, water balloons begin flying and no one knows quite what to think. Nor can anyone tell exactly where the balloons are coming from. They seem to be dropping from the ceiling _and _being shot from the wall. The chaos is immediate as everyone is quickly soaked. There's a stamped towards the door that ends with people slipping and falling. This has a domino effect and soon almost everyone is on the ground, groaning and drenched.

**…**

While Santana enjoys a good prank as much as the next badass, she has to admit that such elaborate ones daily is exhausting to set up every damn night. She doesn't know how Rachel does it; her girlfriend still seems her usual bouncy self. If it was anyone else, she'd suspect drugs. Knowing Rachel, she's just high on endorphins and achievement.

**…**

When the students begin trickling in Thursday morning, no one gives any thought to the random laundry carts scattered throughout the hallway. Most people just assume some idiot left them there after practice.

As Rachel walks through the hall, marveling at what people are willing to ignore, she decides that maybe her classmates deserve everything she's dishing out. Not because of the placidity towards the slushing or bullying of others, but because they don't seem to care about _any_thing outside themselves. If they did, maybe Rachel would be having more difficulty hiding the fact that she's the prankster. Yes, they're all teenagers, but after three days of water balloons, any unknowns should be enough to cause suspicion.

She reaches the auditorium and quietly slides inside. She finds some of her fellow glee clubbers in the audience while Kurt, Mercedes, Brittany and Tina dance on stage. Rachel also spots Marisa and Wendy, sitting next to Mike. She wonders what Brittany and Mike told their girlfriends to justify hanging out in the auditorium this morning.

"Wanna make out, babe?"

Santana is sitting in the last row, watching the antics on stage. Rachel plops down next to her.

"Where's Quinn?"

"Talking to Coach," Santana replies. "They'll stay put until after, I'm sure."

Rachel's just about to ask where Noah and Artie are, when she notices the pair sitting just off stage, quietly playing guitars.

"They're gonna try a duet," Santana says.

"That should be amazing," Rachel replies.

"Depends what song they pick," Santana retorts.

"_Enter Sandman _by Metallica is my guess," Rachel says.

Santana just barely holds back a loud laugh. "Seriously?"

Rachel nods.

Santana can only shake her head at that. "You are so weird, babe."

"What do you think about Mike and Wendy?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know," Santana replies. "I trust B when she says she overheard that Wendy likes Mike, but I just don't know if Missy will let her have this or she'll try and use it to her advantage."

"I guess it depends on how important Wendy's happiness is to her," Rachel says.

"I suppose it does," Santana agrees. "You'd think that would make the answer obvious. But it doesn't."

"You're making me feel bad for Wendy."

"Well, if her and Mikey hit it off, then it won't be so bad."

Rachel's answer is cut off by the sound of absolute chaos coming from the hallway, causing Santana to smirk.

"I almost wish I was out there," she says. "Just so I could see it all."

"You'd be too wet and annoyed to properly see anything," Rachel tells her.

"You know if the Broadway thing doesn't work out, you'd totally make an awesome evil genius," Santana says.

"Would you be working with me?"

"Probably. I'd be the muscle."

"Like a body guard?"

"Well, I'd make sure that cute ass is always safe, if that's what you mean."

"Then I guess I have a backup plan," Rachel says.

**…**

Jack and Emma are having lunch in her office. It's probably the safest place in the school, especially since the prankster seems to like her, despite having given up on Will. She's surprised that Jack hasn't asked about the prankster. There's been a water balloon attack every day this week so far, including the one during the staff meeting that they just narrowly missed. And yet, Jack hasn't brought it up once.

Emma's pretty sure he's waiting for her to bring it up; she just can't figure out why.

Emma wishes she could forget about the prankster, because she's having a lovely time. Jack is smart, funny, speaks three languages, is well traveled and tells incredible stories. She's having such a great time that Emma almost forgets she's in her office and not on a date.

The word date shakes her out of her daydream and so Emma decides to bring the prankster up.

"So you're not going to ask?"

"Ask what?"

"About the prankster," Emma says. "You have to be curious."

"I admit to having a bit of an interest," Jack admits. "If simply for the fact that I'm a bit confused about the situation."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I find it hard to believe that one student has been pulling pranks on this school for over a year and hasn't been caught."

"Well, honestly? They probably have been caught," Emma replies.

"I'm really confused then," Jack says. "If the prankster was caught, why are the pranks continuing?"

"Because no one's been, uh, found guilty. There's absolutely no proof. Several people have been accused and I imagine one of them is in fact the prankster. But without absolute proof we can't punish anyone. Principal Figgins won't risk the lawsuit."

"No proof what so ever?"

"None we can use," Emma replies. "Any evidence we find ends up being a dead end. And before you say we should beef up security, Figgins would never pay for it."

"But paying his janitorial staff over time to deal with all these messes is okay?"

"Apparently."

**…**

Friday morning, a flat tire makes Principal Figgins late. After waiting for the tow truck, which gives him a ride to school, he arrives around the same time as students begin stumbling in.

As he approaches his office, a crowd is beginning to form around his office and a very bad feeling starts to build.

When the students notice who is trying to push through the crowd, they immediately part and let him through.

The parting of students allows Figgins to see his office for the first time. It is completely filled with water balloons, enough so that because the door swings inwards, it will take _a lot _of force to push the door in. The problem with that is the force of the door is sure to break the balloons. Figgins can only imagine the amount of water that is going to pour out of his office. Not to mention that everything inside will be ruined. The room is too full of balloons for there to be any way to empty it without popping some.

He sighs. He really hates the prankster.

**…**

The janitors decide to build something to guide the water out of the school. It takes half the day, but by lunch there's a canal like path from Figgins' office door to the closest exit and out the door.

The next hurdle is how to start the process. The only solution seems to pop enough balloons to get in, though the likely hood of most of the balloons popping seems high.

The thought of everything in Figgins' office being destroyed worries both Mitch and Bob. Tony is probably safe since he's head janitor and though Figgins is loathe to admit it, he does need at least one janitor. Tony maintains that the school needs more than one, and for now that's been true, but if Figgins has to replace everything in his office, there may be some budget concerns after.

They decide to just push the door open and start the popping of the balloons. It starts small; so much so that at first, the floor is just wet, but the more balloons that pop, the more they can push the door in, which in turn pops more balloons. Soon it's a torrent of water as balloons burst by the dozen, it seems.

It's a sight to behold and a crowd of students and faculty gather to watch.

**…**

"You're really a bitch," Santana tells Rachel as they walk to her car.

"I'm taking that as a compliment," Rachel replies. "Because I'm not in the mood to be mad at you."

"Hey, I'm not the one that terrorized our school all week with water balloons," Santana retorts.

"Terrorized? Please," Rachel scoffs. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Pot. Kettle."

"Besides, you're the one that helped the bitch terrorize this school all week with water balloons," Rachel reminds Santana.

"Yeah, but everyone already knows I'm a bitch," Santana replies.

"I'm fairly certain that the fact that the rest of the school considers me more of a drama queen than a bitch is really just splitting hairs."

"I suppose that's true," Santana chuckles.

"Besides," Rachel says. "You had fun. I know you did."

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, it was tedious as fuck, but I do enjoy pulling pranks with you."

"Well, I consider it worth all the effort."

"Yeah, but sometimes I worry that Figgins is going to stick you with a huge bill to cover the cost of clean up," Santana replies.

"Perhaps," Rachel says. "But this time we took out everything we could, so it wouldn't be ruined by water. So technically we didn't destroy any school equipment or paperwork."

"How long do you think it'll take them to find everything?"

"Longer than it should," Rachel replies. "The gym is the most obvious place."

"To you maybe."

**…**

It's been a long week. A prank every day is exhausting to deal with and Principal Figgins is more than ready for this week to be over. Wearily, he climbs in his car and pulls out of the parking lot.

Only to groan in frustration when the helicopter noise begins as he picks up speed. Between the balloons and going several days without it happening again, Figgins was sure that it was just a two time thing; he was obviously being naïve.

Growling with aggravation, he wonders what the hell he did to this prankster that he would go after him like this, in addition to the other pranks this week.

It then occurs to him that all those things he just listed require a lot of work. In fact, a lot of the pranks that have occurred most likely required a lot of work. Maybe the prankster is in fact several individuals. _That _would make sense.

Maybe he needs to reexamine this prankster situation.


	34. Halloween

**Chapter Title:** Halloween  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson, Artie, Tina, Mike/Wendy, Kat Tyler, Emma/Jack, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Figgins, OCs  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A Halloween party and then a Halloween prank.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~8,950  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> spoilers for the movie, _Reservoir Dogs_.  
><strong>AN:** Yes, Artie's costume came from _Community. _Thanks to bradstev for the janitor idea.  
><strong>2nd AN:** Yes, I know how long it's been. Summer is like kryptonite for my creativity apparently. However, as an apology and partly to kick my ass in gear and finish this craziness, there will be daily updates for the next 5 days. Seriously. Thank you for your patience.

* * *

><p>Rachel's glad that no one, faculty or students, really seem to notice or investigate odd things around the school. It makes pranking so much easier, especially this Halloween prank.<p>

There are still about two weeks before the holiday and it's three in the morning. As she hangs piñatas in strategic places, Rachel can't help but wonder if anyone will notice, despite knowing she's usually surrounded by the unobservant.

**…**

Rachel's just about to enter the choir room when she's yanked away from the door. Agitated, she turns to find Noah looking sheepish.

"Sorry bro," he says. "I know how you hate that. But I had to ask you something."

"What Noah?"

"Halloween's on Monday."

"That's not a question," Rachel points out.

"Shouldn't the prankster be striking?" he whispers.

"It's taken care of Noah," Rachel hisses. "I'll fill you in this weekend. All right?"

"Awesome. Definitely. Of course. Should have known not to doubt you."

Rachel just shakes her head. "Can we go to glee now, please?"

**…**

"Okay, so first order of business," Mr. Schue says. "Apparently Puck and Artie have prepared a duet for us."

He sits down as sporadic clapping fills the room. Puck and Artie move to the front of the room.

"So Artie and I thought it might be fun to do a duet together. And we talked about what song to do forever. We were thinking something classic like The Doors or Metallica."

"Told you," Rachel whispers to Santana.

"But then we decided it might be cool to not do the expected. So we're doing a duet from the musical, _Into the Woods_."

This announcement is met with silence.

"Uh, all right then," Puck says. He turns to Brad. "Hit it, dude."

As the music starts, Puck takes a step back as Artie begins singing.

_Did I abuse her  
>Or show her disdain?<br>Why does she run from me?  
>If I should lose her,<br>How shall I regain__  
>The heart she has won from me?<em>

Agony!  
>Beyond power of speech,<br>When the one thing you want  
>Is the only thing out of your reach.<p>

Artie rolls back slightly as Puck steps forward.

_High in her tower,  
>She sits by the hour,<br>Maintaining her hair.  
>Blithe and becoming and frequently humming<br>A lighthearted air:  
>Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-<em>

Agony!  
>Far more painful than yours,<br>When you know she would go with you  
>If there only were doors.<p>

Artie rolls in line with Puck

_Agony!  
>Oh, the torture they teach!<em>

_What's as intriguing_, Puck sings.

_Or half so fatiguing_, Artie sings.

They both reach for the sky as they sing, _As what's out of reach?_

Puck takes a step back as Artie continues to sing.

_Am I not sensitive,  
>Clever,<br>Well-mannered,  
>Considerate,<br>Passionate,  
>Charming,<br>As kind as I'm handsome  
>And heir to a throne?<em>

Puck steps forward and turns to Artie. _You are everything maidens could wish for!_

Artie faces Puck. _Then why no-?_

Do I know?

Puck sings back.

Artie turns to face the audience.

_The girl must be mad!_

Puck joins him, facing the audience.

_You know nothing of madness  
>Till you're climbing her hair<br>And you see her up there  
>AS you're nearing her,<br>All the while hearing her:  
>Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-<em>

Agony!

They both sing.

Artie raises a fist as he sings. _Misery!_

Puck also raises his fist. _Woe!_

They turn to face each other. _Though it's different for each._

Reaching out, Artie sings, _Always ten steps behind_

Reaching up, Puck sings, _Always ten feet below_

They inch closer together and Puck kneels, wrapping an arm around Artie.

_And she's just out of reach.  
>Agony<br>That can cut like a knife!_

I must have her to wife.

As the music ends, they both bow with a flourish.

Rachel jumps up, clapping. Everyone joins in.

"Well, Puck, Artie," Mr. Schue says standing. "That was great. And unexpected."

"You didn't expect it to be great?" Puck asks.

"No," Mr. Schue replies. "I didn't expect you two to pick a musical."

"Oh. Okay."

**…**

It's the Friday before Halloween weekend. As Principal Figgins eats his lunch, he says a silent prayer, asking that the prankster doesn't strike this weekend. It's been a quiet two weeks of no pranks. He's not stupid enough to think the prankster has given up. He's learned the hard way what that kind of thinking leads to.

Figgins wishes his budget would allow him to beef up security for McKinley. Then this whole prankster situation would have already been dealt with last school year. He could put up the video cameras he so desperately needs and possibly electrify all the doors once they lock at seven.

Instead, he's stuck with a half hearted security company that he can call if there are signs of trouble, except they respond with the speed of a dying rhinoceros and no one's ever been caught. Not that he's ever really had an inkling of a prank setup happening.

Only once. He'd been driving home from a movie one Friday night last year and he'd thought he'd seen people loading things into a truck in the darkness of the parking lot. The only problem is that he'd been stuck at a stoplight. And so by the time the light had changed, whoever he'd seen was already gone. All he could be sure of is that he'd seen more than one person. It had been very early in the prankster's career and so he hadn't given it as much weight as he should have. Most likely because no pranks had happened and so Figgins assumed that what he'd seen had been unrelated.

Now he doesn't know what to think.

**…**

Rachel's been home for only about twenty minutes when the doorbell rings. She hurries downstairs and opens the door. Standing there with a suitcase, Alyson offers a wave. "Hey."

"Hi," Rachel greets. "Come on in."

Rachel takes Alyson upstairs and shows her the guest room.

"Sorry it's a mess," Rachel says. "I tried to move all my dads' stuff out of the way."

"It's fine, Rachel," Alyson replies. "Thanks for letting me stay. If my family knew I was in town…"

"I understand," Rachel says. "Trust me. Families are…complicated."

"That's an understatement."

**…**

Quinn shows up next. Rachel directs her towards the guest room and stays downstairs to give them privacy.

She is surprised when Brittany and Marisa arrive next. Brittany hangs the garment bag she has with her in the front closet.

"So are you finally going to tell us what our costumes are?" Rachel asks.

"When everyone's here," Brittany replies.

"Where is Santana, anyway?" Rachel asks.

Brittany just shrugs.

**…**

Santana shows up about twenty minutes later, looking sheepish. "Sorry. Lost track of time."

"It's fine," Rachel says. "I'll go get Alyson and Quinn and then Brittany can tell us what our group costume is going to be." She runs upstairs.

"What were you doing?" Brittany asks.

"Trying to figure out what to do for Rachel's birthday."

"When is it?" Marisa asks.

"December 18th."

"That's like fifty days away," Marisa points out.

"I know. But Rachel deserves something great and that takes some planning."

When they hear Rachel's footsteps coming down the stairs, Santana shushes them.

"Alyson and Quinn will be down shortly," Rachel informs them.

Santana smirks because enough time has passed that she can mock Quinn about hooking up with a girl, especially if she comes down with JBF hair.

"And no teasing Quinn right now," Rachel tells Santana.

Marisa laughs.

"I wasn't going to," Santana grumbles, as she sinks onto the couch.

Rachel sits down between Santana and Marisa. "Sure you weren't."

"Busted," Brittany smirks.

When Quinn and Alyson make their way downstairs, they fall into the recliner.

"Yay, now that we're all here," Brittany says. "Our costumes are going to be from my favorite movie."

"Seriously, B?" Santana asks.

"Yes, San," Brittany replies. "Because I've been wanting to do this forever and I finally have enough people."

"What's your favorite movie?" Alyson asks.

"_Reservoir Dogs_," Brittany and Santana answers, Brittany sounding excited and Santana looking exasperated.

"Uh…"

"Yeah, no one expects that answer," Quinn says.

"Why?" Alyson asks.

"It's considered one of the best heist movies ever and yet we never see the heist," Brittany explains. "Plus _Stuck in the Middle with You_is one of my favorite songs."

"Is that the one playing while the cop's getting his ear cut off?"

"That's the one," Marisa replies, dryly.

"Huh."

"Don't bother trying to figure Brittany out," Quinn tells Alyson.

"She's right," Rachel adds. "Britt is like a Rubik Cube."

"Square?" Brittany questions, sounding hurt.

"Uh, no," Rachel replies. "Brightly colored and complex, but once you figure her out, you feel a real sense of accomplishment. I assume. I've never finished a Rubik's Cube."

"Have you figured Brittany out, yet?" Alyson asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "Definitely not.

Brittany grabs Rachel and pulls her until she's standing before wrapping her arms tightly around her. "Awww, Rachy, don't worry, you get me more than most."

"Thanks, Britt."

"Can we get back to our costumes?" Santana asks.

"Yeah," Quinn adds. "So we're all going to wear suits?"

"Basically," Brittany replies. "And name tags."

"Seems easy enough," Alyson says.

"I suppose you got us suits?" Santana asks.

"Of course I did."

"Are we sure they're going to fit?" Alyson asks.

"They'll fit," Rachel assures her.

"They will?"

"They will," Marisa says.

"It's just one of those things," Quinn tells Alyson. "B just seems to know stuff."

"All right."

"So what are we doing for dinner?" Santana asks.

**…**

A few hours later, they're cleaning up pizza boxes and deciding who'll change where.

"Did you write the names on the name tags yet?" Rachel asks Brittany.

Brittany shakes her head. "I thought maybe Quinn or Marisa could. They have much better penmanship than I do."

"Makes sense. Do we owe you anything for the costumes?" Rachel asks.

"Naw, they're loaners."

"They let you just take them?"

"It's amazing what you can get away with if you flash a guy, Rach," Brittany explains.

Chuckling, Rachel shakes her head.

"Never change, Britt."

"Awww, thanks, Rachy."

**…**

Rachel doesn't know what she thought wearing a suit would feel like, but for some reason, her first response is that it doesn't feel like she thought it would. She's currently sitting at the kitchen table watching Marisa write their character's names on the name tags.

"I feel ridiculous," Alyson says as she enters the kitchen wearing black jeans, instead of black dress slacks.

"Sorry, Alyson," Brittany says. "Mr. Pink wears black jeans."

"At least we get sunglasses," Quinn adds.

"Why am I Mr. Orange again?" Rachel asks.

"Because you would totally be the undercover cop of the group," Brittany replies.

"Thanks?"

**…**

Rachel volunteers to be the sober driver for the evening, so they all squish into her car and head out.

The party's already in full swing when they arrive. Brittany heads to the dance floor, pulling Marisa with her, while Quinn heads towards the alcohol with Alyson and Santana trailing behind.

Rachel goes off in search of Noah. She finds him in the backyard between two kegs.

"Went all out this year, I see," Rachel greets.

"Senior year, baby."

"If that's how you're going to respond to everything, then this is going to be an extremely long year," Rachel tells him.

"Beer?"

"No thank you," Rachel says. "I drove."

"No fun."

"Don't worry, Noah," Rachel replies. "I plan on having all kinds of fun after the party. I never thought I'd be grateful that Santana has such a high alcohol tolerance."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Noah adds. "By the way, who are you supposed to be?"

Rachel points to her name tag. "From _Reservoir Dogs_."

"Seriously?"

Rachel nods.

"Brittany totally has you guys wrapped around her little finger."

"Who are you supposed to be?" Rachel asks.

"John McClane. From _Die Hard_. Bruce Willis?"

"I know who he is," Rachel says. "I just can't believe _this _is your amazing costume."

"What? It's awesome."

"You're in black dress slacks and a wife beater."

"I know," Noah says.

"And barefoot!"

"I know."

"Your idea of awesome costume seems to be whatever you happen to have in your closet," Rachel says.

"Well, you're in a suit," Noah retorts.

"Which I definitely did _not _have in my closet."

"Whatever, I look awesome."

**…**

Santana is trying to get Quinn to do a shot with her when Artie rolls into the kitchen, dressed all in black and wearing a very obvious fake goatee.

"Who are you supposed to be?" she asks him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replies.

Santana points to her name tag.

"Mr. Blonde… Ahhh, nice."

"And you?"

"I'm Evil Artie," he replies. "You can tell by the goatee."

"Wow, so much effort."

"You're wearing a suit and a name tag," Artie accuses.

"At least acquiring a suit requires some effort on my part."

"Oh please, we both know this costume wasn't _your_idea."

Suddenly two cups are shoved into their personal space.

"What's this about?" Artie asks.

"It's alcohol," Quinn replies. "Drink it and shut up. Both of you."

"Very grumpy service here," Artie says.

"Agreed," Santana adds.

Quinn growls under her breath and takes a long drink from her cup.

**…**

"Can I get a beer? Or are you keeping this keg for yourself?"

Rachel turns to find Tina behind her. "Nice costume." Tina's dressed in tan cargo pants which are rolled to reveal black converse. She's wearing a white tank top with the British flag on it. Her hair is in a ponytail and there's a cigarette behind her right ear.

"Hey, you look familiar," Puck says.

"_Noah_."

"It's me, Puck, Tina," Tina says. "We've been in glee club together for over two years now."

"I know who you are, T," Puck tells her. "I _meant_your costume. I don't know exactly who you are, but it's really familiar."

"It's from a comic book," Tina says. "A crazy, awesome comic book with gods and superheroes and aliens and defending the earth and-."

"Of course," Puck replies. "_The Authority_."

"Exactly."

"Very nice," Puck continues. "All you need is a British accent, or at the very least, some British phrases and you'd be perfect."

"Well if you don't get me a beer, I'll call you a bloody wanker," Tina says. "Does that work for you?"

Smirking, Puck hands her a full cup. "Perfect."

**…**

"I'm starting to think I didn't spend enough time on my costume."

Mike glances over from the driver's seat. "I think you look great. Candy striper, it's cute."

Wendy smiles as she looks Mike's costume over again. "Says the guy in the Black Knight costume."

Mike tries to shrug, but it's difficult to do while driving and wearing armor. "I couldn't find armor that resembled the French Knight, so I figured the Black Knight was close enough."

"Yeah, I still don't know who the hell you're talking about," Wendy replies.

"I know. And we'll be fixing that real soon," Mike assures her. "We're watching some Monty Python real soon."

"All right, I guess," Wendy says as Mike tries to find parking around Puck's house.

**…**

Kurt's in the kitchen, making himself a vodka Cranberry when Puck smacks him on the back.

"Hey Hummel," he greets.

"Puck," he replies, wincing.

"What is it with you gays and vodka?"

"Uh..."

"I mean you and Al here are just knocking 'em back," Puck continues.

"I told you not to call me that."

Kurt looks over to see a brunette about Rachel's height in a suit and a name tag that reads, Mr. Pink. She holds out her hand. "Alyson Tyler."

Kurt shakes the offered hand. "Kurt Hummel."

"Ahhh."

"What?"

"I've just heard a lot about you," Alyson explains.

"From who?"

"Uh, Quinn."

"Quinn Fabray?"

Alyson nods.

Kurt looks Alyson up and down. "Interesting."

Alyson nods again as she begins making herself a screwdriver.

"Well if you'll excuse me..."

Taking a sip of her drink, Alyson watches Kurt push his way through the crowd.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Puck asks.

Alyson just shrugs.

**…**

From his spot in the kitchen, Puck watches Finn down yet another beer. He briefly wonders if Finn's trying to give himself alcohol poisoning. He'd be more pissed about Finn apparently trying to drink an entire keg himself if Hudson hadn't given him two twenties the moment he walked in the door. Though Puck has to wonder what Finn is trying to forget.

**…**

Finding Quinn in the living room, Kurt grabs her and drags her away from her conversation with two Cheerios dressed as Sonny and Cher.

"What the hell, Kurt?"

"We need to talk," Kurt throws over his shoulder as he drags Quinn away.

They end up in the garage.

"All right," Quinn says, pulling away from Kurt. "What is this about?"

"I just wanted to confirm that you've finally embraced your gayness. And I figured that you weren't quite ready to broadcast that just yet."

"What makes you say that I've embraced my so called gayness?"

Kurt smirks. "I just met your girlfriend."

"Who?"

"Alyson."

"What makes you think she's my girlfriend?" Quinn asks.

"Besides the fact that your costumes match?" Kurt retorts. "The way she says your name."

"Seriously?"

Kurt nods.

Quinn sighs. "What of it?"

"So it's true? You're finally admitting it?"

"To a select few," Quinn replies. "I'm not ready for that conversation with my mom yet."

"Fair enough," Kurt says. "It's still exciting, though."

"I guess."

"I do owe Mercedes ten bucks though."

"What? Why?"

"Because I wasn't sure if you'd come out before graduation. She was," Kurt explains.

"Should I be insulted?"

"Course not. Coming out is tough."

"Thanks Kurt."

**…**

"Hey there loser," Santana says as she enters the kitchen to find Artie mixing himself a drink. "You put any alcohol in there? Or is it all soda?"

"You're bitchier than normal," Artie retorts. "Are you binge drinking to forget the pain?"

"Please, I've barely drank anything tonight. Besides, I could drink anyone here under the table."

"Yes, your alcoholism is something to be proud of."

Santana smirks. "I like the snark. Fine, I challenge you to a contest."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," Santana says.

"Fine. What?"

"How about shots?"

"And when I win?" Artie asks. "What do I get?"

"_If _you win, you have the honor of being the only one to ever beat me."

"Woo hoo, there's something I can take to the bank," Artie scoffs.

"Whatever. Fifty bucks, then."

"Much better."

**…**

While most people begin scurrying towards the kitchen to watch Santana and Artie, Marisa stays in the living room watching the dance floor. She's not much of a dancer, though she knows Brittany is, so she doesn't mind watching from the couch. However, watching Brittany with Mike Chang is a bit…unsettling.

Marisa glances to her left at her couch mate. She looks familiar, Marisa assumes she's a Cheerio, because seeing her in red and white seems right, even if it's a candy striper's outfit. What has Marisa's attention is the apparent jealousy on the girl's face as she watches the pair slink across the floor. She wonders if she has a similar expression on her face.

**…**

Seated across the table from each other, Artie and Santana face off. Puck is overseeing the whole thing. He insisted that since it's happening at his house, he gets to be in charge. After the three of them argue over what the shot is, the finally settle on Jack Daniels.

Puck sets ten shot glasses on the table; five in front of Santana and five in front of Artie. He then fills each of them with alcohol. Everyone watches as they knock back one right after the other.

Once they've finished all five, everyone watches to see if either is going to puke. When neither moves, a cheer goes through the room as Puck yells, "Five more."

As Puck refills the shot glasses, Rachel appears on Santana's left. "Good luck, tiger," she whispers as she kisses her on the cheek.

"Where are you going?" Santana asks as Rachel stands.

"Elsewhere. I just brought some garbage cans over in case you guys puke. Because no one wants to deal with that."

"Thanks bro," Puck says.

"Yeah, thanks Rachel," Artie adds.

"Good luck, Artie," Rachel tells him. "You'll need it."

Santana smirks as Artie nods determined.

**…**

As more people squish into the kitchen, Brittany and Mike continue to grind on the dance floor. Marisa's definitely jealous at this point, but doesn't quite know what to do about it.

Wendy, sitting next to Marisa can no longer take it. She stands up and marches up to the pair dancing. She grabs Mike's wrist and yanks him away from Brittany.

"Whoa, Wendy, what's up?" Mike asks.

"Kort," Brittany greets, looking amused.

"Look I know you and I just started whatever this is, but watching you two dance like that is _not_how I wanted to spend my evening."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Marisa joins in, now standing next to Wendy, arms crossed as well. "Is that for two people that are dating other people, you're sure dancing seductively."

"She's means stop humping on the dance floor," Wendy adds.

Brittany smirks while Mike looks sheepish.

"Sorry," he says. "Britt and I have been dancing like this together for a long time. Sometimes I forget."

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "Chill out. We're just having fun. I'd be dancing with my girlfriend, but she didn't want to."

"Hey, I don't dance," Marisa defends.

"You want to be an actor and you don't dance?" Mike asks.

"How do you know she wants to be an actor?" Wendy questions.

Brittany chuckles.

"Because Marisa and Rachel are friends," Mike explains. "And we've hung out before."

"Oh."

"How about you and I heat up the dance floor?" Mike asks.

Wendy nods.

"Wanna go make out in the bathroom?" Brittany asks Marisa as Mike pulls Wendy onto the dance floor.

"Okay."

**…**

When the third row of five is filled with Jack, Artie starts to become nervous. He knew going up against Santana would be tough, but now he's starting to worry about alcohol poisoning. Because he's starting to lose feeling in his arms and that can't be good.

"Ready to forfeit?" Santana mocks.

Artie shakes his head. He thinks. Through his blurry vision, he thinks that Santana looks almost as bad off as he is. Maybe he can win this.

**…**

Sitting on the kitchen counter with Quinn, watching the spectacle, Alyson wonders if her high school experience would have been like this if she'd attended McKinley instead of St. Rose. When Quinn leans her head on Alyson's shoulder, she automatically wraps her arm around her.

"Having fun?" Quinn asks.

Alyson nods, figuring Quinn will feel it. "Yeah. McKinley kids are interesting to watch."

"We like to drink, you mean?"

"It's Lima," Alyson says. "What else is there to do?"

**…**

The third row of shots goes much slower. Santana does one, then Artie does and there's a lot more staring in between.

When they've both drank fourteen apiece, Puck gleefully begins narrating.

"Lopez is looking a little squeamish. I have no doubt that my girl will defend her title, but at what price."

"Shut up Puckerman," Santana slurs. "And don't call me your girl." She quickly swallows the last shot and slams the glass on the table harshly.

"And now it's Artie's turn," Puck continues. "He's definitely looking a bit green, but I know my man Artie is a fighter. He's not going to go down so easy. He's going to-"

"Shut the fuck up dude," Artie grumbles as he fumbles with the shot glass. It takes quite a bit of concentration, but he finally grasps it and drinks it. The shot glass is half dropped onto the table with a bang.

"Whadda think guys?" Puck asks. "Round four?"

Before anyone can reply, Artie grabs the garbage can next to him and pukes in it.

A collective "Ewww" goes through the crowd and people begin to slowly filter out of the room.

"Yeah, that's right," Santana crows. "Suck it, Artie. Oh shit." Santana turns in her seat and bends over, just managing to hit the garbage can that Rachel left.

"So disappointing, Lopez," Puck says as he helps her move the can into her lap.

"Fuck off, Puckerman," Santana growls once she's finished. "Like you've ever done fifteen shots in ten minutes with good results."

Artie gratefully accepts a wet paper towel from Tina and wipes his mouth. "Man, and I had such plan for that fifty."

**…**

Kurt's pretty sure he over did it. He decides to get some fresh air to clear his head. He chooses a corner of the yard that appears to be drunkard free. Sighing, he sinks to the ground.

"You okay?"

Kurt jumps, not expecting a question. He finds Rachel learning forward into a thin bit of light coming from the patio. He lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, hey Rachel. Just needed a break is all."

"Quite understandable."

"Why are you out here?"

"I needed a break from the drunks," Rachel explains. "I'd forgotten how annoying it is to be sober around drunk people. But someone needs to stay sober to drive home."

"That was nice of you," Kurt says. "To volunteer."

"I'm not spending the night here because we have no way to get home," Rachel retorts.

"Yeah, there'll be enough passed out drunks as it is."

To Kurt's surprise, they lapse into silence. After a while, his inebriation hits him like a ton of bricks. "I think I over did it," he says.

"Make sure you drink a lot of water when you get home," is Rachel's response.

"Can I ask you something Rachel?"

"I suppose so."

"You knew, didn't you? About Quinn?"

"What did I know about Quinn?"

"That she's gay," Kurt says.

"She is?"

Kurt sighs. "You can drop the act, Berry. Quinn told me."

Kurt feels Rachel's eyes on him, examining him, despite the darkness. He tries to not feel too self-conscience.

"Very well then," Rachel says finally. "Yes, I did know."

"Have you met her girlfriend?" Kurt asks. "I don't think she goes to McKinley."

"I have indeed met her," Rachel replies. "I introduced them."

"You introduced them?"

"And no, she never went to McKinley. She went to the all girls Catholic high school."

"Of course she did."

"I do hope you'll keep this to yourself, Kurt," Rachel continues. "Quinn not ready to be fully out and being pushed out would devastate her."

"Rachel, I would never," Kurt says. "I hope you know that."

"Oh, I know you would never intentionally say anything," Rachel replies. "However, you're currently drunk and so many of our classmates are currently surrounding us. I just worry. Quinn doesn't need that."

"Are you defending Quinn Fabray?" Kurt asks. "From me? Did I drink so much that I hit my head and forgot something? I feel like I'm in some weird alternate dimension."

"Would knowing that I'm concerned about how Quinn's negative reaction would affect Alyson, someone I consider a friend?"

"Um…maybe."

"Kurt, I know you think I'm a complete fool because I seem to forgive people so easily, but I think that might be because you see things as black or white, right or wrong and I'm not sure that I do. So, despite how horrendous Quinn's been to me in the past, she needs someone in her corner right now, specifically in relation to her sexuality. And I don't mind being that person."

Kurt sighs. "You're right. I just never expected to hear that from you. No offense."

"None taken, I suppose."

**…**

The dual puking in the kitchen, along with the late hour managed to clear out a majority of the party. Puck is currently on his couch watching Chang and a Cheerio grind on the dance floor. Brittany is next to him with Rachel's little theater geek friend on her lap. He can't quite hear what they're talking about but considering the blush on the theater geek's face, he has a few guesses.

Curled up together in the recliner are Quinn and her girlfriend, which is something Puck never thought he'd see. Even though she hasn't actually said it out loud, bringing a girl to his party is still a big thing. He wonders how Rachel made all that happen. Because even if they haven't actually talked about it, he knows his bro was behind it all.

Puck's interrupted from his musing by the entrance of Finn. Puck hasn't seen him in a while and judging by the weird red marks on the left side of his face, Puck is guessing that Finn passed out in the bathroom. Considering that Finn had basically been drinking straight from the keg, Puck's surprised that he's even moving.

He leans against the door frame watching Mike on the dance floor and sipping from a cup that Puck is pretty sure is more alcohol. Still as long as he's not driving, Puck's not going to police him.

And then Finn's eyes fall onto Quinn and his expression becomes enraged. He's quickly hovering above the pair before Puck can even blink.

"So you're gay now?" Finn growls.

"Finn, you're drunk," Quinn says.

"Answer the question."

Both Mike and Puck try to pull Finn back as he seems to lean closer to Quinn. He does his best to resist.

"_Answer the question_!"

"I've always been gay," Quinn says. "I just couldn't admit it till now, Finn."

Finn lets out an animalist howl and lunges forward. Quinn wraps her arms around Alyson and tries to protect her from Finn as Puck and Mike just barely manage to hold him back.

"Dude, you gotta calm the fuck down," Puck says. "You're drunk."

"Shut the hell up and let go of me."

"Sorry man," Mike says. "No can do."

"Finn, what the hell are you doing?" Kurt asks as he and Rachel burst into the room.

"Quinn's decided she's gay," Finn growls.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Kurt replies.

"And it's not something you just decide," Rachel adds.

"Probably not the time, Rachel," Kurt mutters.

"Sorry."

"I just… First Rachel. And now Quinn?" Finn says, relaxing, though Mike and Puck don't let go. "What is going on?"

"C'mon man," Puck says. "You can crash on the couch." He and Mike start to lead Finn over. "Party's pretty much done, anyhow, right?"

Everyone nods and heads into the kitchen.

"Puck, man, I'm sorry," Finn mumbles as he sinks on the couch. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"I know, dude," Puck says.

Mike begins grabbing as many cups and bottles he can before heading into the kitchen.

"Things'll make more sense in the morning," Puck continues.

"Thanks man."

**…**

In the kitchen, Mike drops the cups and bottles into the garbage bag that Rachel got out. Santana and Artie are still at the table, looking miserable. Alyson and Quinn grab a chair as does Wendy and Kurt.

"Well that was dramatic," Brittany says.

"I don't think I've ever seen him that drunk," Kurt says. "Or that angry."

"Should we be worried, Kurt?" Rachel asks.

"You mean when he sobers up?" Kurt clarifies.

"I'm not ready to be fully out yet, Kurt," Quinn says. "I'm not ready to tell my mom and she should probably hear it from me."

"Plus, my family wouldn't react well, at all," Alyson adds. "Thank god for my scholarship."

"You really think they'd disown you?" Rachel asks.

"I do."

"Damn," Kurt mutters. "Maybe if I can get dad and Carole to talk to him, we can convince him."

"Finn's not vindictive, you guys," Rachel says. "I'm more concerned with him just blurting it out without even realizing what he's doing. His mouth sometimes gets ahead of his brain."

"What brain?" Santana scoffs.

Puck joins them in the kitchen, going to the sink for some water.

"Maybe he's so drunk, he'll forget," Brittany says. "I mean, think about it, he's already passed out once tonight. And he doesn't even know who Alyson is. Maybe denial is our best option."

"Do you get smarter when you're drunk?" Kurt asks.

Alyson gasps, but Quinn leans in and whispers something in her ear that seems to relax her.

"Apparently," Brittany replies.

"What about her?" Kurt asks, pointing to Wendy.

"What about me?" Wendy asks.

"I don't know who you are or if I can trust you," Kurt replies.

"We don't have to worry," Rachel says, staring at the Cheerio. "Do we _Wendy_?"

Wendy audibly gulps. "No Rachel. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Good," Rachel nods.

"Yep, still in the alternate dimension," Kurt says to himself.

Ignoring him, Rachel turns to Puck. "I think it's time for us to go. Is Finn okay?"

"Hopefully, he's passed out by now," Puck answers. "Don't worry. If he wakes up, I'll just convince him he had a weird dream."

"Excellent," Rachel says. "So Kurt, Artie, do you need a ride home?"

"Uh, do you really have room for that, Rach?" Artie asks.

"Technically no," Rachel replies. "But if you're willing to be uncomfortable for a brief period, it could still work out."

"How uncomfortable exactly?"

**…**

"I didn't agree to this," Santana grumbles behind Rachel.

"I'm sorry guys, but it's only for a couple minutes," Rachel answers.

"As long as you drop me off first," Kurt says from behind Rachel.

Artie barely manages to hold back a smirk as Rachel drives. He's not sure how, but Rachel managed to fit all eight of them and his wheelchair into her hybrid. His chair is in the trunk while he and Rachel are in the front. In the back sit Brittany and Quinn with their girlfriends in their laps; while Kurt is currently sitting as little as possible on Santana.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be anyway?" Santana asks Kurt.

"Richard Gere from _Chicago_."

"Figures."

**…**

When Rachel wakes up Sunday morning, it's still early. Feeling restless, she decides to go for a run, so she doesn't wake anyone else up.

She's tying her sneakers when Santana rolls open and groggily asks, "What's up?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Rachel replies. "Just going for a run."

"What time is it?"

"You probably don't want to know," Rachel answers.

Santana groans. "Freak." And then she rolls back over, snuggling further into the blankets.

Rachel smirks and stands. She grabs her house keys and her cell phone before heading out.

She's not sure why she's so restless. Saturday was spent just as it usually is, with Santana except with Quinn and Alyson in the house, both couples stayed in their respective bedrooms. They ate takeout together for dinner and watched trashy TV. Despite all her grumbling about the loss of naked time, Rachel knows Santana was glad, is glad that Quinn seems so happy.

Brittany and Marisa had gone home after brunch since Marisa was supposed to watch her little brothers while her mom worked. After going home to shower and change, Brittany was apparently going to spent the afternoon at the Lawson house and keep Marisa company. Rachel's glad that relationship seems to be going so well.

**…**

A few hours later, freshly showered, Rachel rings the doorbell of the Tyler household. The door is answered my Mrs. Tyler.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tyler," Rachel greets.

"Hello Rachel. Lovely to see you," Mrs. Tyler replies. "Won't you come in? Kat's just about ready."

"Thank you," Rachel says, stepping inside.

"I want to thank you Rachel," Mrs. Tyler says.

"Oh? Whatever for?" Rachel asks.

"Spending time with Kat," Mrs. Tyler replies. "I know as a senior, your schedule is extremely busy and the fact that you still make time for her is just amazing."

"Oh, well thank you," Rachel says. "But I enjoy spending time with her. I'd always wished for a sister growing up. I like to think of her as my honorary little sister."

"That is so sweet."

"Hey mom, who was at the door?" Josh Tyler sticks his head into the hallway. "Oh. Hey Rachel."

"Hi Josh."

"You here to pick up the munchkin?" Josh asks.

Rachel nods. "Do you mind maybe picking her up later?"

"Yes, Josh, that would be lovely," Mrs. Tyler adds.

"We'll most likely be hanging out at my house," Rachel continues. "I think it'd be nice if you were the one to come over."

"Oh. Right. Of course," Josh says. "I don't mind doing that mom."

"Perfect," Mrs. Tyler says. "Well, let me go check on Kat." She climbs the stairs, calling Kat's name.

"You don't mind?" Josh asks.

"Course not," Rachel says. "Stop by, hang out a bit, give her a hard time, you know, be a little brother."

Josh smirks. "She'll hate that."

"Is that a sibling thing I just don't get?" Rachel asks. "You pretend to hate the other's very existence?"

"It is," Josh nods. "Although I think being so close in age, helps as well."

"Interesting."

Just then Kat comes bounding down the stairs with her mother trailing after.

"Hi Rachel."

"Good morning Kat. Are you ready to go?"

Kat nods as she pulls a jacket out of the front closet.

"I'll call you when Kat needs to be picked up, okay?" Rachel asks Josh.

"Sounds great."

"You have his number?" Mrs. Tyler asks.

"I do," Kat replies.

"Okay, well then have a good time, dear."

"Bye mom. Josh. C'mon Rachel, let's go."

**…**

Rachel spend the drive back to her house fully amused. Kat is so excited, she's practically vibrating. Rachel's glad she could do this for Kat, and Alyson too.

Though Rachel admits to herself, it a bit selfish. She always wanted a sister and the fact that Kat's become her surrogate sister has been great. And now, seeing how happy Kat is at just the prospect of seeing her big sister is causing Rachel to grin uncontrollably.

**…**

The house is pretty quiet when they enter. Rachel leads Kat towards the kitchen and has her sit at the table.

"How come it's so quiet?"

"Everyone's still sleeping, I'm sure," Rachel replies.

"Big party last night?" Kat asks.

"No, that was Friday night," Rachel explains. "Don't worry, Alyson knows you're here for breakfast. I'm sure they'll be down soon." Rachel goes to the coffee maker and starts it. Turning to Kat, she says, "I'm sure the smell of food will lure them out of bed. What should we make?"

"Uh, waffles?"

"Waffles, huh?"

"It'll give those lazy bums a chance to wake up slowly, right?"

Rachel smirks. "Right you are."

**…**

Santana wonders how big of sap she is that she's disappointed that she doesn't get to wake up with Rachel. No matter how many nights they spend together, Santana's favorite part has always been waking up still ensconced with her girlfriend.

As the smell of coffee and pancakes make their way further into her consciousness, Santana figures it's time to wake up. She pulls on a pair of sweats and a tank top before heading downstairs.

She finds Alyson hugging Kat and Quinn watching with an adoring smile from the kitchen table. Ignoring her instinct to mock Quinn, Santana waves to everyone and heads for the coffee maker. After pouring herself a mug, she wraps Rachel in her arms.

"Morning."

"Hey sleepy head."

"Whatever freak," Santana teases. "Waffles?"

"Kat's idea."

"I didn't know you guys have a waffle iron," Santana says.

"It is a rarely used item," Rachel agrees. "You want to set the table for me?"

Santana gives a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Since you cooked or whatever."

Smiling, Rachel returns to the waffle iron as Santana grabs plates from the cabinet. As she setting the plates down, Quinn jumps up and grabs silverware. Once everything's on the table, both Quinn and Santana watch with amusement at the excitement radiating off Kat. She's bouncing around and talking a mile a minute to Alyson who is listening with a grin.

"All right motor mouth," Rachel says setting down a stack of waffles and a bowl of fruit. "Time to eat."

"Fine," Kat huffs and sits at the table.

The next few minutes are filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and groans.

"Holy crap, Berry," Quinn says. "If there anything you can't make?"

"If there is," Santana replies. "She hasn't found it yet."

"Well as a vegan, it could be argued any meat product," Rachel says.

"These are vegan?" Alyson asks.

"They are."

"Huh. Never would have guessed."

"Me either, Rach," Kat pipes up.

"Thanks guys."

**…**

Santana makes Rachel sit at the table while she and Quinn clean up. Alyson and Kat are in the living room, catching up.

"You guys are being ridiculous," Rachel says. "I'm perfectly capable of cleaning up."

"You cooked," Santana replies. "We clean."

"Yeah, Berry," Quinn says. "For once, just sit there and relax."

"Whatever," Rachel huffs.

**…**

They spend the rest of the morning and into the afternoon in the living room with the TV playing in the background, just talking. Alyson's trying to soak up as much time with Kat and Quinn as she can. Every time she looks at a clock it's with a certain amount of dread since she needs to leave by three.

When the doorbell rings, everyone, but Rachel and Kat look up in surprise.

"That would be Josh," Rachel says, standing.

"It's only a little after two," Quinn points out. "I thought you weren't leaving until three."

"And I still am," Alyson says.

"No worries ladies," Josh says, entering. "I just came for a little mockery time with my big sis."

"Yay," Alyson says, dryly.

"Love you too, Aly."

**…**

The rest of the afternoon is filled with good byes and Rachel finds herself emotionally exhausted. She, Santana and Quinn spend the rest of the afternoon on the couch watching trashy TV. Quinn seems reluctant to leave and Rachel's not going to push it. Even though she thinks Quinn and Alyson are great for each other, she still feels bad about the fact that it's now a long distance relationship.

**…**

It's after midnight when Puck pulls into the McKinley parking lot. He parks in his usual spot, hidden in the shadows. He and Rachel quickly unload the laundry cart that Rachel "borrowed" from the locker room. Less than a minute, they're inside the school.

"You are a god damn genius, bro," Puck says as he pushes the laundry cart inside.

"I have become very efficient at picking locks, I agree," Rachel replies.

They head to the janitor's closet first for a ladder. Puck carries it as Rachel pulls the cart. One by one, they take down the piñatas Rachel put up two weeks earlier.

"Do I even want to know where you got so many piñatas so quickly?" Puck asks.

"Passionateforpiñatas-com," Rachel replies. "They have an excellent bulk rate."

"And all the creamy filling?"

"Bulkforabuck-com. They have an awesome bulk rate. Obviously."

It takes a little over an hour to replace the three dozen harmless piñatas with the prank ones. They then return the ladder and the laundry cart to their appropriate places.

"Still pretty early," Puck says as they climb into his truck.

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "Enough time for me to get a decent amount of sleep."

"It's our senior year, Rach," Puck says. "You gotta let loose."

"Have you already forgotten the last two hours of our lives?" Rachel questions. "What would you call that prank we just set up?"

"Awesome," he replies. "But then you had to follow it up by talking about getting a decent night's sleep."

"Because I'm tired."

"Because it's exhausting being Rachel Berry?"

"Do not mock me, Noah," Rachel says.

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

**…**

When Emma arrives at work Monday morning, she's surprised to find a post-it note on her computer screen.

_Eating your lunch in your office, with the door closed today is an EXCELLENT idea. –a friend_

So it seems that the prankster is going to strike today. Emma's not surprised. Halloween seems like a very good time to pull a prank. She wonders what it'll be. Her first thought is a _Carrie _reenactment; a shudder runs through her and she decides to stay in her office as much as possible. Just in case.

**…**

Principal Figgins is on edge. It's Halloween. A prank is going to be pulled. He can feel it. The problem is that the prankster keeps the pranks varied; there's no telling what could happen. He'd been half hoping it'd be something externally like a giant pumpkin blocking the entrance; because at least then he would _know_. This waiting game isn't good for his health.

**…**

Emma sees Jack walking past her office during third period. She flags him down and he enters her office with a smile.

"Hello Emma," he greets. "How's your Monday going?"

"It's just fine," Emma replies. "I was wondering if you'd like to have lunch with me, here, in my office."

"Sure that sounds nice."

Okay. I'll see you later, then."

Grinning, Jack gives a half bow before leaving.

**…**

When Rachel and Santana decide to eat lunch in the choir room, she supposes she shouldn't have been surprised that the other glee kids would have the same idea.

"Happy Halloween," Brittany exclaims when they enter.

Besides Brittany sits an uncomfortable looking Marisa, Artie and Tina. Kurt and Mercedes are a few chairs over with Quinn sitting behind them next to Mike.

Santana sits next to Quinn and Rachel next to Mike and they start eating.

A moment later, Puck bursts in. "Huh."

"I take it that it hasn't started yet," Artie says.

"What hasn't?" Puck asks.

"Whatever is going to happen that means it's smart to hide in here," Tina says.

"I guess not," Puck replies. "I mean, I haven't heard any crashes or screams or any of the usual." He then slumps into the only empty chair in the first row.

"What crawled up your ass?" Santana asks him.

"I wanna see it," Puck replies.

"What?"

"Whatever's going to happen," he says. "I bet it's awesome…and orange."

"Orange?" Marisa asks.

"For Halloween."

"We'll hear about it all too soon, I'm sure," Rachel says.

**…**

Tony looks around the small break room that is for the janitorial staff only. Budget cuts means he doesn't have as many people as he'd like, but considering the size of their break room, he supposes he could consider it a small blessing.

He knows he should hate the prankster as much as the faculty, but he just can't. For one thing, the constant pranks mean job stability for him and the rest of his staff. He can barely clean up after various pranks with the few he has. And Figgins knows it, so he hasn't made Tony fire anymore people in the last year.

He'd been surprised to find an envelope taped to his locker when he arrived this morning. It had read, _Anthony J. Briggs, Head Janitor_. He'd opened it cautiously, as if it might explode, because at McKinley, you really never knew. He'd been shocked to read a heartfelt sounding apology for the chaos that was to occur later in the day, as well as a warning to stay out of it.

Tony appreciates the warning and the apology. He knows the prankster's beef is with Figgins and so he simply tucks the note back into the envelope and puts the envelope back in his locker.

He then tells the rest of the janitors to eat lunch in the break room today.

**…**

"Why do I get the feeling that your request to eat lunch in here isn't just to bask in my sparkling personality?" Jack asks Emma as she nervously stares out into the hallway.

"Excuse me?"

"You keep looking out into the hallway. Expecting someone?"

"More like something," Emma replies. "I assume you've heard about the McKinley Prankster?"

"It's come up a few times."

"Well, he's been sending me warnings about when the pranks happening."

"Oh really?"

Emma nods. "A lot of the pranks involve a lot of…mess and apparently knowing my phobia, the prankster has been warning me. So even though almost everyone else is covered in slushie or stuck to fly paper, I managed to escape those fates."

"But you don't know who it is?"

"No one seems to," Emma replies.

"Surely there must be some leads," Jack comments.

"Oh yes, there were plenty," Emma tells him. "But they've all been eliminated."

"Eliminated?"

"Well, there's no proof, so Principal Figgins' hands are tied. If he goes after someone without definitive proof…well, it wouldn't be good."

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something here?"

"Um, well, have you met Rachel Berry? Short brunette, usually in skirts and speaks far too properly to be a teenager?"

Jack chuckles. "I know exactly who you mean."

"Well both her girlfriend and her best friend were accused of being the prankster simply because of their reputations. However, when Figgins threatened to expel them without tangible proof, she began threatening lawsuits."

"Because they're innocent?"

"I hope so," Emma says. "But honestly? I have no idea."

Suddenly the hallway seems to be filled with chaos. All that Emma can see is students scrabbling about, orange paint, and what she hopes is fake blood. There are random little explosions that seem to add to the chaos.

"Thank you for inviting me to lunch," Jack says, gazing out into the hallway at all the pandemonium.

**…**

Puck's the only one who reacts when the explosions, screaming and chaos begin. A little too eager, he jumps up and tries to see everything out the small window on the door.

"Where's Finn?" Kurt asks.

"Maybe he's hiding somewhere else," Tina says.

"Yeah, we just came here because it seemed easier," Artie adds.

"Or he didn't get a warning," Mercedes says. "Remember on the first day how he didn't get a raincoat like the rest of us?"

"Yeah, you're right," Kurt agrees.

"Douchebag deserves it," Santana mutters.

"Hey, I know he was out of line the other night, but he's still my brother," Kurt says.

"Whatever."

"And then you wonder why we think you're the prankster, Santana," Kurt replies.

"I _know_why," Santana tells him. "Cause I'm fucking bad ass. But it wasn't me. I'm just glad that the prankster seems to have his priorities straight."

**…**

Because so many students and faculty are covered in either orange paint, fake blood and grape slushie, if not all three, Figgins has to cancel the rest of the day. The halls are bedlam as people rush to the bathrooms and locker rooms to clean up. A few people even jump into the pool, causing the janitors to groan because that means they'll need to drain the pool again.

Trying to restore order to the halls of McKinley after the three dozen mini explosions of various liquids is impossible. Despite hating that the prankster has triumphed again, Figgins has to cancel the rest of the day. Especially since many people had just left, heading home to clean up.

**…**

Rachel's not sure how it happens, but Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Marisa, Puck, Mike, Artie and Tina all end up at her house after the abbreviated school day.

"I say we toast the prankster," Puck says, raising his beer that he stole from the fridge. "For allowing us to have so many extra days off."

Brittany claps.

"It's hardly something to celebrate, Noah," Rachel says. "Just because this is our senior year, doesn't mean it's not important. We're going to fall behind and either miss something at the end or have to quickly breeze through something to finish everything we're supposed to."

"Maybe you should write the prankster a note," Brittany suggests.

"How's she supposed to do that B?" Quinn asks. "If we supposedly don't know who it is."

"I don't know. Maybe post it on the front door?"

"Or publish it in the school paper," Marisa suggests.

"Yeah. That," Brittany agrees.

"What if the prankster doesn't read the school paper?" Mike asks. "I mean, not many people do."

"I'm not going to write the prankster a letter, guys," Rachel interjects. "It would probably have the reverse effect."

"What's that supposed to mean, babe?"

"I'm sure the prankster, like many at this school, isn't a fan of my talent and would simply do the exact opposite of what I request out of spite."

"You really think he'd do that?" Mike asks.

"The prankster could be a girl," Brittany says.

Santana groans. "Don't encourage them, B."

"Relax, S," Quinn says. "No one's saying it's you."

"Hummel seemed to earlier," Santana points out.

"He was defending Finn," Rachel points out.

"Waste of time," Santana grumbles.

Rachel elbows her.

**…**

Looking down the main hallway, Tony sighs, knowing he has _hours_of work in front of him. So caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the three guys in light blue jumpsuits behind him until one taps him on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"You look like you could use some help," the tallest says.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Tony replies.

"I'm Ron. This is my brothers Tommy and Billy. We've been hired to help you."

Tony blinks. "Seriously?"

Ron nods.

"I'm not even going to question it," Tony tells them. "There's too much to do. Feel free to jump in anywhere."

"Thanks man," Ron replies.

Tony watches the trio drag their cleaning materials that they apparently brought with down the hall and get to work. He can only shake his head in disbelief. Just when he thought the prankster couldn't surprise him anymore.


	35. A Waste of Twenty Dollars

**Chapter Title:** A Waste of Twenty Dollars  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Artie, Brittany/Marisa, Tina, Puck, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Mike/Wendy, Emma/Jack, Missy, Figgins  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel's assistance with his car, makes Artie question some things about Rachel.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,375  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Very, very mild spoilers for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, e.g. if you've never seen the show. None for glee.

* * *

><p>Because of the massive Halloween explosion, school is canceled for the rest of the week. Puck considers this a triumphant, Rachel considers it a disappointment.<p>

"We have the whole week off, bro," he says as they hang out Tuesday. "How is that not awesome?"

"Because I take my education very seriously," Rachel replies. "Our senior year is pivotal."

"You're just upset that it took so little for such a huge reaction, babe."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel says.

"You're worried that McKinley's pathetic response to your prank means that continuing to pull pranks will result in more days off or other negative consequences," Santana says.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel tells her, trying to keep the smirk off her face. Santana really does know her too well.

**…**

Rachel wonders what memo she missed that makes her house the hang out spot for the week. She's not complaining, per say; it just takes her by surprise.

Santana shows up first at six, ready to go for a run. Rachel's pleasantly surprised. They rarely work out together, well in the traditional sense. Mostly because they're already so close to becoming one of those couples that it just seems to make sense to have separate workout routines. Apparently a week off from school is an exception.

Once they're done, they take separate showers, only because Rachel is starving and wants to eat first. So Santana jumps in the shower first while Rachel eats a banana. Once Santana's done, Rachel is next. They're both in the kitchen; Santana at the table and Rachel just finishing making coffee, when Brittany shows up with Marisa shyly behind her.

Artie and Tina are next followed by Quinn and Rachel resigns herself to making more pancakes. She decides if this trend continues, other people are going to have to start bringing food.

**…**

When Artie arrives Wednesday morning, it's obvious that he's excited. He pulls Rachel aside.

"So I finally got a car," he tells her.

"How exciting."

"I need to make some adjustments to it so I can drive it independently," he continues. "I was hoping you could help me."

"Uh, Artie, I don't really know that much about cars," Rachel says.

"That's okay," Artie replies. "Because what really needs to be done are some physical alterations to the car itself. That's what I was hoping you could help with."

"Sure."

"Maybe we could start today? After lunch?"

"Why not? Everyone's just hanging out. If they want to watch us, they can."

"Always have to have an audience, huh, Rach?" He grins widely at her, so she knows he's joking.

"I just perform better that way," she smirks back.

**…**

Puck, Artie and Rachel head over to Artie's house, throwing Artie's chair into Puck's truck. Santana promises to keep everyone in line while they're gone.

"What could they possibly get into in twenty minutes?" Rachel asks.

Santana shrugs. "B's here. "

Rachel nods. "Fair enough."

At Artie's house, Puck parks next to a maroon Dodge Durango.

"Is that it?" Puck asks.

"Yeah," Artie replies. "It'll be easier to make the adjustments on a bigger vehicle."

"Cool," Puck says. He turns to Rachel. "Are you going to be able to drive that huge vehicle, tiny bro?"

Rachel barely holds back a snort of indignation. "Don't call me that." Artie hands her the keys and she climbs out. "Meet you guys back at the house."

**…**

It's a little surreal to Rachel as she and Artie work on making the Durango a little more accessible for Artie while the others do their own thing. Mike and Tina are half-heartedly helping, occasionally handing them the necessary tools or items. Noah is stretched out under a tree, sleeping. Brittany and Marisa are in the corner making out and Santana is stretched out under the same tree Noah, though watching Rachel intently.

Rachel feels bad. She knows Santana was looking forward to some alone time this week. Rachel feels the same way; possibly even more so since she knows that her relationship with Santana definitely has an expiration date. She's been trying to get in as much quality time with Santana as possible, but senior year is crazy. Not to mention there seems to be so much more drama.

Everyone has to go home for dinner, except for Santana. Rachel and Artie agree to leave the Durango in the driveway, since they're planning on working on it Thursday and Friday. They move it as far to one side as possible and Rachel puts a note on the fridge explaining the situations to her dads, on the off chance they might care.

**…**

"Do I even want to know how you got permission to spend the night, tonight?" Rachel asks Santana as they crawl into bed later.

"I just explained to mom that my girlfriend time was being eaten up by project time and friend hanging out time," Santana explains. "And how I don't want to get in the way of any of that."

"Uh huh. And when that didn't work?"

"I asked papa," Santana admits.

"Well, we have almost twelve hours of alone time in front of us," Rachel says. "Whatever should we do with it?"

**…**

"I gotta says guys, I'm impressed."

"Thanks Puck," Artie says.

It's Friday afternoon and they're all in Rachel's driveway admiring the adjustments made to the Durango. Not only did they change the gas and brake from pedals to levers that Artie can easily use, they also took out the driver's seat and added a lift so Artie can literally slide into the car.

"Well maybe slide isn't the best word," Rachel says. "Since the lift isn't all that fast, but still. No more having to throw the chair somewhere else."

"It's pretty awesome," Tina pipes up.

"Yeah, not to mention really fast," Mike adds.

"Well you guys helped," Artie tells them. "And since I already had all the plans drawn up and parts we needed that saved a lot of time too."

"This means you have to give us all rides now," Brittany says.

"A test drive is in order," Artie says. "Who wants to come?"

Brittany's hand shoots up as does Puck's. Tina's hand goes up at a regular pace, followed by Mike.

"Rachel gets the front seat, since she helped," Artie tells them. "But if you guys want to squeeze in the back, go for it."

Brittany offers to sit on Puck's lap which he agrees to with a lecherous grin. But then Marisa tells Brittany that she rather she didn't. So instead, Brittany sits in the middle and has Tina sit on her lap.

"No offense guys," Quinn says as Rachel climbs into the front seat and Artie rolls himself onto the lift. "But I don't see what the big deal is. Yes, the modifications are impressive, but other than that, it's just an old car."

"You're just testy cause your girl went back to Pittsburgh," Puck says.

"_Noah_," Rachel chastises.

"Whatever Puckerman," Quinn says. "I hope you drive over broken glass on the way home."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel turns and watches the process of Artie getting into the vehicle. First he rolls himself backwards onto the lift. He then pushes a button that raises him to the proper level. The lift then spins ninety degrees so Artie is facing the right direction before sliding into the car and locking into place with a click.

Artie slips the key in and turns on the car. Everything seems to be running properly and so pulling the brake lever, Artie shifts into reverse and backs out of the driveway.

"No offense dude," Puck says from the back seat. "But you do have your license, right?"

"You waited until we're actually moving to ask that?" Mike asks.

"It just occurred to me," Puck retorts.

"I do," Artie replies.

"How?"

"Apparently the Columbus DMV has a car available to meet my needs," Artie tells them. "It's where I got the idea from. It's probably not that easy for parents to find cars their kids can drive. And who wants to put forth all that effort, if your kid isn't going to pass."

"Makes sense."

**…**

While Rachel's grateful that Noah wants to have a laid back bro night, she's not sure that catapulting water balloons is quite what she had in mind. They're on the roof of the movie theater in ratty old plastic lawn chairs that were already on the roof when they arrived with a balloon launcher hooked between their chairs with a cooler of beers and balloons on the ground.

For once, it wasn't Rachel pulling strings to get them on the roof; apparently the assistant manager, Jerry's older brother used to go out with Noah's mom. Rachel finds it amusing that Noah has an affinity towards older women, while his mom apparently has an affinity for younger men.

She comments on this after a six-pack.

"Don't be gross, Rach," Noah replies.

"I just find it intriguing, don't you?"

"No," he says. "Anything in relation to my mom dating does not get called intriguing. Okay?"

"Okay," Rachel replies. "Sheesh. So sensitive."

"There are just a few things that you don't talk about. Ever," Noah tells her. "And one of those is parents and sex. You should know that."

"I suppose so," Rachel says. "But I'm not asking about sex, I'm asking about dating. And remember, sex isn't dating."

"Hmph, whatever," Noah replies. "I have no idea. She's really only dated two guys I can remember. Barry, Jerry's older brother—"

"Barry and Jerry? Really?"

Noah smirks. "Yeah, I know. And this other guy, Jason that she dated right after the divorce came through. I don't know how old he was. I was like ten or something."

"All right then."

"And now we will never speak of this again. Right?" Noah asks.

"You got it, bro."

**…**

"So this is the infamous car you've been working on all week," Kurt says the backseat of the Durango.

"Yep," Artie says, proudly. "I know it's old, but it's mine, so it's awesome."

"I just can't believe you did all this yourself," Mercedes adds.

"Well not really," Artie says. "Rachel helped. And Mike and Tina."

"Just a little," Tina adds from the front seat.

"Huh."

"You guys could have come over and help," Artie continues.

"I didn't think we'd be welcome," Mercedes answers.

"Why not?" Tina asks.

"Because neither of us have the best history with Rachel," Kurt replies.

"So?" Artie questions. "It's not like Rachel holds a grudge."

"Yeah," Tina says. "Mike even brought that Cheerio he's dating that has bad history with Rachel. And it was fine."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm sure he asked first," Tina continues.

"Maybe next time," Mercedes says.

"You mean the next time school's canceled for most of the week because of the prankster?" Artie asks.

"Yeah. Exactly."

**…**

"This has been a weird week."

"I concur," Brittany replies.

She and Santana are sitting in Brittany's back yard stretched out on lawn chairs, drinking.

"How's it going with the kid?"

"It's going well, thanks," Brittany replies. "And you calling her the kid is mildly disturbing, don't you think?"

"Sorry," Santana says. "It's how I see her. Probably always will."

"You know she was never a threat, right?" Brittany asks. "Even last year, during those three weeks of insanity that was you two broken up."

Santana sighs.

"Fine," Brittany says. "We don't have to talk about it. But I am concerned about Rachel getting found out as the prankster."

"You too?"

"Well, Mike knows," Brittany continues. "And if he can figure it out…"

"What's to stop others, I agree. Rach is playing kinda fast and loose with this, don't you think?"

"I don't think I'd describe it quite like that," Brittany replies. "But her warning so many people is getting dangerous. Besides Becky and Ms. Pillsbury, Rachel also warned like ten other people."

"That's my girl," Santana smiles. "Too damn nice."

"You're not worried?" Brittany asks.

"Of course I am," Santana replies. "But there's nothing I can do. I certainly can't change her mind. Plus, I already tried."

Brittany chuckles. "Very true."

"So is it getting serious with the kid?"

"Seems a little soon to call it serious," Brittany replies. "It's only been two months. And I'm _supposed_to graduate this year."

"Don't say it like that, like there's any sort of doubt," Santana says. "We both know your GPA is much better than people think."

"Sorry. Habit."

"I wish we were going to college on the same coasts."

"Me too," Brittany agrees.

"Well at least I'll have Rach."

"You seem awfully sure you'll both get in," Brittany says.

"Are you doubting us?"

"I'm being realistic."

"Well I believe in us," Santana tells her.

**…**

Tina's the last one that Artie drops off. He puts the car in park and turns to face Tina. "You know, I've been thinking."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Rachel was great at helping me modify this thing," Artie says. "And I've seen her do some incredible things."

"Like the Halifax Gibbet?" Tina asks.

"Exactly."

"So?"

"So, she's gotta be the prankster," Artie says.

"Really?"

"Just _think _about it," Artie continues. "It makes perfect sense. She's a good planner. She can obviously build complex things, such as those crazy complicated pranks like a castle or all that crazy water balloon stuff last month."

"I guess."

"Remember that it was Rachel's idea to break into school and play Nintendo."

"I do."

"And who else but Rachel would warn us?" Artie asks.

"Uh…"

"Exactly."

"Okay," Tina says. "So what?"

"So what?" Artie asks. "Don't you want to _know_?"

"Well sure, everyone in school wants to know who the prankster is," Tina replies.

"So I say we pull a prank of our own."

**…**

"So what's the next prank going to be?" Noah asks as he drives back to Rachel's house.

"I have no idea," Rachel replies. "The last one was big. Maybe it's time to lay off them for a little bit."

"What? No! It's senior year, Rach. It's all or nothing. Go big or go home. Do it or lose it."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard that last one," Rachel says.

"Okay, so maybe I made that last one up, but the sentiments still the same."

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But once again you're using, the fact that it's our senior year as an argument. Which I don't approve of."

"It's how I'm planning my senior year," Noah tells her.

"That's absurd. And you don't plan things."

"Well, since we're graduating, maybe I should start."

"Then maybe you should plan the next prank," Rachel replies.

"Really?" Noah asks, a little too eagerly.

"Um, yes?"

"Awesome."

**…**

Instead of lying in bed all day and day dreaming about how well it's going with Mike Chang, Wendy is currently sitting on her front step waiting for Missy to show up. She's late, as usual and Wendy wonders why she even bothers being on time when she knows Missy won't be. She never has been, their entire friendship, even when they kids.

Finally Missy pulls up, honking her horn as she does.

"Must you do that every time?" Wendy asks as she climbs into the car. "You knew damn well I was sitting outside waiting."

"But it's so much fun."

"One day one of the neighbors is going to come out and yell at you," Wendy tells her.

Missy glances at the dashboard clock. "It's after one on a Sunday. You really think anyone cares?"

Wendy half shrugs.

The way Missy drives, they're at the mall in less than ten minutes. They wander around for a bit, but all too soon Missy is leading them to the food court because she's starving. After getting their usual Berry Banana Squeeze for Missy and Mango Passion for Wendy, they find an empty table.

"So how are things going with Mike Chang?"

"It depends," Wendy replies.

"Depends?"

"On if you're asking as my best friend or for a scheme," Wendy clarifies.

"Both, actually."

Wendy sighs. "It's going fine. Better than fine, actually."

"It better be," Missy says. "I feel like I hardly see you."

"We still spend most of the day together at school," Missy points out.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Maybe if you stopped scheming and started legitimately dating, you wouldn't feel so lonely."

"I'm not lonely!"

"Don't get so defensive," Wendy says. "I'm just trying to help."

"Who would I date anyway?" Missy asks. "Almost every guy at that school is a moron. And I can't even be bothered by anyone who isn't a senior."

"Seriously?"

"Just because they don't mercilessly tease the losers anymore, doesn't mean I'm going to waste my time on just anyone," Missy retorts.

"As long as you promise to leave me and Mike out of it," Wendy replies.

**…**

"Remind me again what this proves," Tina says as they sneak into McKinley late Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning, depending on how you look at it.

"I want to see her reaction," Artie replies. "Have you ever watched her while we're all talking about the prankster?"

Tina shakes her head.

"A lot of the time, she stays out of it, keeps her head down."

"And you think that'll change if we do this?" Tina asks.

"I do."

"And that's why we're doing this ridiculous prank?"

"I wouldn't call it ridiculous," Artie says.

"Absurd then."

"I don't feel that I need to explain my art to you, Tina."

"Whatever you say Artie."

**…**

When Rachel and Santana enter McKinley Wednesday morning, they notice quite a few people bent over trying unsuccessfully to pick something up. And there are enough people doing it that they have to weave around people to get to their lockers.

"What the hell is going on?" Santana asks Brittany when they get to her locker.

Looking highly amused, Brittany replies, "Apparently someone glued quarters to the ground."

"Seriously?"

"Don't look at me," Rachel says.

"So there's a copycat prankster?" Santana asks.

"Seems that way."

"It's probably just someone trying to draw you out," Brittany says.

"They could've just asked like Mike did," Rachel replies.

"Boring," Brittany says.

"You're just amused about how much effort people are putting forth for twenty-five cents," Santana comments.

"And you're not?" Brittany questions.

"That's besides the point."

"I wonder what kind of glue they used," Rachel says.

"Weirdo," Santana says fondly.

**…**

Looking at the quarter glued down in front of his office, Figgins doesn't know what to think anymore. He was so sure that he had the prankster figured out, but this prank really makes him question his previous conclusions.

**…**

At lunch, Rachel finds an empty table and sits. She's soon joined by Santana on her left and Brittany on her right with Marisa on the other side of Brittany. All too soon Kurt and Mercedes plop down across from them with Artie and Tina right behind them.

"What are you up to Santana?" Kurt asks.

"Eating lunch."

"I mean what does gluing quarters to the ground do?" Kurt continues.

"It's funny," Brittany explains. "People are putting forth a whole lot of effort for twenty-five cents."

"Well that's certainly true," Mercedes agrees.

"Still it seems almost out of character," Kurt says.

"Maybe you should write the prankster a letter and complain," Santana tells him.

Kurt smirks at Santana. "Why when I can just tell you?"

"Why do you keep on insisting it's me, Hummel?" Santana asks.

"Because we all know it is," Quinn says, sitting next to Santana.

"I don't," Puck says as he sits.

"What about you Mike?" Mercedes as Mike sits down.

"I don't think that it's Santana," Mike offers.

"But you have an idea?" Mercedes presses.

"Maybe it's you and Kurt," Mike replies. "You guys are certainly eager to put the blame on someone else. Classic evasion."

"Excellent point, Mike," Rachel says.

"Yeah," Santana adds. "Good point, Mike. Why _are _you guys always trying to pin it on me?"

"Uh…"

"Now _there's _a theory we haven't ever considered," Rachel says.

"I don't know," Puck says. "I can't see it. I mean, yeah, they're schemers, but they're just not bad ass enough."

"The hell we aren't," Mercedes argues.

"So you're saying you guys are the prankster?" Santana asks.

"That's not what she's saying," Kurt replies.

"Don't question my bad assery," Mercedes interjects.

"Apparently we're saying don't question her bad assery," Kurt clarifies.

"Assery isn't a word," Rachel offers.

"Man, I thought we'd finally figured it out," Mike says.

"Maybe we'll never know guys," Tina offers.

"Well then I wasted twenty bucks in that prankster pool," Brittany says.

**…**

Jack and Emma are having lunch in her office again. They've mostly been chit chatting about things around McKinley, how Jack's classes are going or about the freshman who for some reason thought claiming depression would get him a prescription for medical marijuana from Emma.

"I don't know what's more depressing," Emma says. "That he thought that I could actually prescribe it or that he actually thinks it's legal in Ohio."

"Or that marijuana would be prescribed for depression," Jack offers.

They've been saving their "getting to know you" conversation for their dates. For some reason, it doesn't feel right to mix business with pleasure. So to speak.

"I must say this is the most unusual school I've ever subbed at," Jack says.

"Oh?"

"Who glues quarters to the ground?" Jack asks.

Emma can only shrug.

"I mean, yes, the prankster does keep things interesting, which I suppose is nice."

"That's one way of looking at it," Emma says.

"Though I'm curious why you get a warning when no other faculty member seems to," Jack says. "Not that you don't deserve it, but it just strikes me as weird."

"Honestly, I wish I knew," Emma replies. "Though I am grateful. It does strike me as odd, though."

"That you get a warning?" Jack asks.

Emma nods.

"Why?"

"Well, this school used to be much… crueler."

"I don't know what that means," Jack tells her.

"The social hierarchy in this school was harsh. If you were considered a loser, you were bullied horribly. A daily slushie to the face seemed to be the favorite form of torture."

"That's… I don't even know," Jack says. "And how long did this go on?"

"Years," Emma tells him.

"What stopped it?"

"Ironically, social hierarchy," Emma answers. "One of the most popular Cheerios, Santana Lopez? She started dating Rachel Berry, who was considered the biggest loser in the school. But Santana put a stop to it all."

"For her girlfriend?"

Emma nods again. "There was some backlash, naturally, but it seems to have worked because we're already into November and I haven't seen a slushie thrown at any _one_person."

"But?"

"Well, the prankster slushied the whole school the first day," Emma explains. "It's what makes me think the prankster is someone unpopular. Revenge."

"Good for them, then."

**…**

When Artie gets into his car at the end of the day, he's surprised to find Rachel in the passenger seat waiting.

"Hey Rach. What's, uh, up?"

"You could have just asked, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"The quarters weren't really necessary," Rachel continues.

Artie shrugs. "It's something I've always wanted to do."

"Seems like a waste of twenty bucks," Rachel replies.

"Worth it for the response," Artie tells her.

"So how did you figure it out?" Rachel asks.

"If you just _think _about it, it's the only possible solution," Artie tells her.

"I can see why you're saying that, but if that was really true, why haven't more people figured it out?"

"Have you _met_some of the idiots around here?" Artie asks. "Plus it's kinda like Hellmouth syndrome."

"Like what?"

"On Buffy. Most of the adults had this weird ability to completely justify their supernatural experiences with vaguely connected real things. Like calling vampires gangs on PCP."

"I'd never thought about it like that."

"Plus, does the rest of the school know how awesome you are? Like we in glee do?" Artie shakes his head.

"Now you're just brown nosing."

Artie gasps dramatically. "Are you, Rachel Berry, turning down praise? Are you sick?"

"And now we've moved onto sarcasm."

"Thank you for noticing," Artie says. "Now what?"

"Now you keep your mouth shut," Rachel tells him.

"Can I pull a prank with you?"

"Maybe."

"Tina knows too," Artie says.

"Figures," Rachel sighs.

"She helped," Artie adds.

"Very kind of her."

"Are you mad at me?" Artie asks.

"No. It's just, the more people know, the more difficult it is to keep the secret."

"Well how many people know?"

"Um, Santana, obviously; Brittany, of course; Puck, Marisa, Mike, Becky, you and Tina, oh and Coach Sylvester."

Artie's glad he's not drinking anything because he definitely would have had a spit take at that announcement.

"Coach Sylvester knows?"

Rachel nods.

"And she hasn't turned you in?" Artie asks.

"Apparently as long as I keep giving her warnings, it's fine," Rachel answers.

"Still only…nine people. That's not that many."

"Well Finn, technically, though no one believes him," Rachel continues.

"You think he even still remembers that accusation?" Artie questions. "I mean, it is Finn."

"Well considering his accusations landed me in Figgins' office, I don't want to risk it."

"Fair enough."

**…**

"So two more people know you're the prankster," Santana says to Rachel that evening over the phone.

"Indeed," Rachel agrees. "I'm starting to be concerned about getting caught."

"You're _just _starting to be concerned?" Santana asks. "My concerns lately haven't been enough?"

"Oh, it's always a concern," Rachel replies. "However, I always felt I could get out of it. I'm not sure I feel that way anymore."

"So what does that mean? No more pranks?"

"Of course not," Rachel says. "But maybe just a break? Nothing until after Thanksgiving."

"Wow, three whole weeks. Figgins will think you've given up."

"Not if he's smart, he won't."

"Fifty fifty then," Santana quips.

Rachel chuckles. "Sounds about right."

They lapse into a comfortable silence as Rachel stretches out on her bed. Despite that, she still asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Santana replies. "I just love you is all."

"I love you too, Tiger."

"I guess I'm just worried," Santana continues.

"It'll all work out, San," Rachel tells her. "I have things under control."

"Whatever you say, babe."


	36. Just Be Grateful

**Chapter Title:** Just Be Grateful  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Artie, Mike, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson, Felicia Lopez, Felix Lopez, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Tyler Lawson, Calvin Lawson  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It's the night before Thanksgiving.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~5,475  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None.

* * *

><p>Rachel is pulling books of her locker for her Wednesday morning classes when the quiet of the morning is interrupted by Noah's exuberant arrival.<p>

"Yo bro."

"Noah."

"We're hanging out tonight," he tells her.

"We are?" Rachel asks. "Did we make plans and I forgot?

"No, but I've decided we have to participate in the holiday."

"Thanksgiving is tomorrow Noah," Rachel says.

"Not Thanksgiving, Rach," Noah replies. "Tonight is considered the biggest drinking night of the year."

"It is?"

Noah nods. "It is. And so we're participating."

"So you and I are going to sit on my couch and drink?" Rachel asks. "How is that any different than any other Friday night?"

"Well, for one thing, it's Wednesday. And because that's not what we're going to do," Noah tells her. "You, me, Mike and Artie are hanging. Artie's driving."

"And doing what?"

Noah shrugs. "We'll figure it out. Who cares?"

"Uh, I do."

"Too bad bro. We're picking you up at six. Be ready to party."

Before Rachel can respond, Noah has already fled down the hallway.

**…**

"So Rachy's coming to Thanksgiving dinner with your family," Brittany says.

"Yeah," Santana replies. "I'm not sure who's more nervous."

"I don't know why Berry's nervous," Quinn says. "Your family loves her. Aren't you always complaining that they like her better?"

"Yes. Thank you for reminding me. Bitch."

Quinn just rolls her eyes.

The three of them are currently sitting alone at a lunch table. Quinn's surprised that Rachel isn't there, hanging off Santana or that her little friend isn't there shyly pressed against Brittany.

"So is she spending the weekend?" Brittany asks.

Santana shakes her head. "No. Since my Nana is staying with us, I don't think Rach is comfortable spending the night."

"I don't know why," Quinn says. "You guys do it at school all the time. If she doesn't care about getting caught here…"

"Apparently my family is different."

"And she doesn't want to do anything to upset the favored position she has with your parents," Brittany adds. "You know she worries about them eventually hating her."

"Oh please," Santana says. "If we broke up again, they would totally side with her."

Quinn snickers.

"What?"

"I just find it hilarious that your family picked Rachel Berry over you."

"So Quinn," Brittany interrupts before Santana starts snipping at Quinn. "Is Alyson coming back for Thanksgiving?"

"She is."

"Are you going to see her?"

"We're planning on it," Quinn replies.

"Oooh, gonna meet the family, Q?" Santana asks.

"No," Quinn says, sullen. "Besides, I've already met her brother and sister. They're the important ones, right?"

"Well since they know about the relationship, I'd say yes," Rachel answers, sitting across from them.

"Berry."

"Hey babe."

"Hi Rachy."

"So you and Alyson are hanging out this weekend, right?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah. Aly said you told her we could use your house if need be," Quinn replies.

"You did?" Santana asks.

Rachel nods. "Of course. Just let me know that you're there. I'd rather not be surprised by anyone-or anything."

"Too bad," Brittany says. "I bet they're totally hot together."

Quinn feels a blush starting and looks down at her food.

Rachel just shakes her head as Santana lets out a loud chuckle.

"Plus," Brittany continues. "I bet Alyson has a lot of stamina. Soccer looks totally exhausting, all that running. I bet she lasts pretty long, so it'll probably end up being a marathon of-"

"Please don't finish that sentence, B," Quinn chokes out, her face bright red.

"Don't be embarrassed, Q," Brittany replies. "We're all happy that you're happy."

"She's right Quinn," Rachel adds.

Quinn just nods.

Santana groans. "God, can we just eat and stop this mush fest?"

Rachel leans across the table and kisses Santana lightly. "Whatever you say, tiger."

**…**

"I can't believe Coach Sylvester canceled practice this afternoon," Rachel says lounging on her bed.

"She said something about turkeys and catapults," Santana says, not lifting her head from Rachel's lap. "I didn't really pay attention."

"Oh, I thought maybe she might have been getting into the holiday spirit."

"As if," Santana replies. "Either way, I'm not complaining."

"When do you have to home?"

"Five," Santana grumbles.

"I'll be over bright and early tomorrow morning, San," Rachel tells her. "It's just one night."

"I don't see why you can't spend the night," Santana replies. "It's not like I'm going to make a move with my Nana there."

"I just don't feel comfortable spending the night right after meeting her," Rachel answers. "I mean, she's your dad's mom. She's…"

"She's just a woman," Santana says. "Just because she changed his diapers, doesn't mean anything."

"I've never really had any experience with grandparents, San," Rachel replies. "And I already feel like a burden being invited over for your family's Thanksgiving dinner."

"You're my family too, Rach," Santana tells her. "Mom is ecstatic that you're coming. You're like the daughter she always wanted."

"You know that's not true, Santana."

"Yeah, well maybe. Maybe not," Santana replies. "But it's certainly how she acts."

"Perhaps she's just happy that you're finally being true to yourself."

Santana shrugs. "Maybe."

"You're sure I can't bring anything tomorrow?" Rachel asks.

"Absolutely," Santana replies. "Just your cute self. There's always enough food to a small country. If anything, your presence will help lessen some of the leftovers later."

"Well, if you're sure."

"If I was you," Santana says. "I'd stop worrying so much about meeting my family and worry more about what Puck has in store for you tonight."

"Nothing I can't handle," Rachel relies. "Plus Mike and Artie are going to be there too. It'll be fine."

"Really?" Santana asks. "Because their presence worries me more. What if he wants to pull a jewel heist?"

"A jewel heist? Really Santana?"

Santana shrugs the best she can lying down. "Who know how that boy's mind works? Or if it even works?"

"It's Lima," Rachel tells her. "How much trouble could we really get into anyway?"

"If memory serves correctly, the two of you together, can find plenty."

"Awww, don't be jealous, San," Rachel says. "You're still my favorite person to make trouble with."

"Any kind of trouble?"

Rachel nods.

"How about naked trouble?"

Rachel just smirks and leans in for a kiss.

**…**

Rachel's thankful that Noah actually knocks on her door. She'd been so afraid that he'd make Artie honk his horn to announce their presence. Though he knows she hates it, he has been known to forget in the throes of excitement.

Stepping outside, she can't help but laugh. Noah is standing next to Artie's Durango, holding the passenger door open for her.

"Evening, m'lady," he says dramatically. "Your chariot awaits."

Rachel curtseys and gracefully accepts his help inside the vehicle. Once the door is gently, but firmly shut, he runs around to the other side and climbs into the seat behind Artie.

"Hey Rach," Mike says from the back.

"Hi Mike. Artie."

"Hey Rachel."

"Let's get this party started," Noah says as he slams his own door shut.

"Where to?" Artie asks.

"Who cares? Let's just go," Noah replies.

Artie shakes his head and begins reversing out of the driveway.

**…**

"You don't have to look like we're torturing you, dear," Clara tells Santana as they eat dinner.

"Sorry mom."

Tomás chuckles. "You saw that girl less than two hours ago, San. Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting."

"So I'm finally going to meet this girl that has you wrapped around her little finger tomorrow?" Felicia asks.

"She doesn't have me wrapped around her little finger, Nana," Santana grumbles.

"Yeah she does," Felix pipes up.

Santana kicks him under the table.

"Children, don't fight," Clara scolds. "And Santana answer your grandmother."

"Yes, Nana," Santana replies. "Rachel's coming over tomorrow."

"And Santana's nervous," Felix sing songs.

This time, Santana punches him in the arm.

"Ow!"

"Maybe you two shouldn't sit next to each other," Tomás suggests, looking amused.

"It was mom's idea," Felix says, rubbing his arm.

**…**

"So not that this isn't exciting," Rachel says. "Because it's not. But what are we doing?"

"We're being young and random," Puck says from the backseat. He's currently drinking a beer he pulled out of a cooler that's sitting between him and Mike. He's the only one drinking.

"Wasting gas you mean," Rachel counters.

"Personally, I was hoping all the scenery would give us an idea for a prank," Puck says.

This is met with silence.

"What?" Puck asks. "Everyone in the car knows it's Rach. So why pretend? Instead, I think we should take advantage of the situation and do something awesome."

"How does Artie know?" Mike asks.

"How do you know?" Artie asks back.

"I figured it out."

"Me too."

"Yes, you're both super sleuths," Puck says. "But do either of you have any ideas?"

No one responds.

"I mean, gluing quarters down was…ridiculous," Puck continues. "But we need to do something more, something bigger."

"I thought it was funny," Artie grumbles.

"That was you?" Mike asks.

"It was."

"Well that explains why it didn't feel like a Rachel prank," Mike says.

**…**

"Your brothers are being exceptionally quiet," Brittany tells Marisa.

"I think they have a crush on you, so they're behaving," Marisa whispers back.

"Awww."

Brittany and Marisa are curled up on the couch while Marisa's little brothers, Tyler and Calvin play video games.

Mrs. Lawson is working late tonight, so she can be home for Thanksgiving. Since they won't be seeing each other until Saturday, Brittany is helping Marisa watch her little brothers. She doesn't mind, since it's not the first time. Mrs. Lawson works a lot as a single parent and Marisa ends up watching the twins quite often. Instead of fighting it, Brittany just hangs out at the Lawson home. Mrs. Lawson doesn't seem to mind.

Marisa lightly elbows Brittany. "Like you don't have enough admirers as it is."

"You're the only one that matters though."

"Keep it down," Tyler throws over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Calvin adds. "All that mush is distracting."

"And gross."

"You're just jealous that my girlfriend is hotter than any girl you'll ever get," Marisa tells them.

"Whatever sis," Calvin says.

"Besides, we're gonna be totally awesome in high school," Tyler adds. "We'll have girls falling all over us."

"Because of your awesome video game playing skills?" Marisa mocks.

"How's that theater thing going for you, sis?" Tyler asks. "Popular yet?"

"You know I don't care about that stuff," she retorts.

"Uh huh," Calvin says. "Aren't you dating a hot blonde cheerleader?"

"Not to be popular," Marisa argues.

"Whatever sis," Calvin says.

"Yeah, whatever you say, sis," Tyler adds.

Smirking, Brittany draws Marisa's attention with a kiss.

**…**

"How is leaving dummies hanging from nooses off the football goal posts a good prank?" Artie asks as he holds the ladder steady.

Puck half shrugs from the top of the ladder. "My bro knows how to make 'em. Made sense when I thought of it."

"It's completely ridiculous," Rachel adds. She's standing on the other side of the goal post holding a ladder for Mike who is also hanging a dummy.

"I didn't hear you guys come up with anything better," Puck retorts.

"Because we weren't trying," Rachel argues.

"Boring! This is our senior year, guys," Puck tells them. "We gotta do stuff, try something new."

"I think Artie's Durango is something new," Mike says, slowly climbing down the ladder. "It's certainly impressive."

"Thanks Mike."

**…**

Santana is doing the dishes. She mostly offered to be alone. She's really not in the mood to deal with her family's ribbing right now. She wishes she knew why she's so nervous about tomorrow. Her parents and even her stupid brother love Rachel, so surely the rest of her relatives will be the same.

Maybe it's the seriousness of the implications behind Rachel meeting her family. Sometimes, Santana feels like she and Rachel are already married; they certainly have some extremely domestic moments.

But instead of scaring her, which Santana supposes it should since she's only seventeen, the realization makes her want more with Rachel, want marriage and all the domesticity that comes with it.

And why wouldn't she? Santana knows how things would be. They'd both be driven, hard working women trying to carve out a place for themselves in the world, while supporting each other. If they can just get through college, they will totally be kicking ass in New York; she knows it.

Santana finds it odd that the idea of marrying Rachel and spending the rest of her life with her doesn't make Santana nervous. It's the thought of relatives meeting Rachel and seeing them together. Because once they realize how hard Santana's fallen, there will be plenty of teasing, innuendo and jokes.

"You seem to be concentrating quite a lot for someone who's just washing dishes."

Santana looks over her shoulder to find her Nana standing behind her.

"Just thinking," Santana replies.

"About that girl of yours?"

"No," Santana blushes. "Just stuff."

"Uh huh," Felicia says. "I think it's sweet."

"I'm not sweet," Santana groans.

"You're in love. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed," Santana protests. "I'm just not in the mood for all the mocking from Felix. And papa."

"They do it out of love," Felicia says. "From what I hear, they're glad you've found someone so wonderful."

"Course," Santana replies. "Everyone in this family seems to like Rachel better than me."

Felicia chuckles. "Yes, your father mentioned that. You know he just enjoys your exasperation."

"Why? He's my dad, he should be nicer."

"Considering the fact that they let her sleep over in your bed, I'd say he's plenty nice."

"With the door open," Santana grumbles.

"You're still a teenager, Santana," Felicia says. "There have to be limits."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't need a lecture."

"Don't get snippy with me, young lady."

"Sorry Nana."

"I know you're nervous about tomorrow," Felicia says. "But things will work out."

"I know," Santana replies. "I just don't want Rach to get overwhelmed or uncomfortable or feel out of place or even-"

"Santana," Felica interrupts. "Everything will go fine. You'll be looking out for her and it'll be just fine. Besides, I'm sure your folks will keep an eye on her as well."

"Okay."

"Good," Felicia says. "Now that the dishes are done, you can come into the living room and update me on things."

**…**

"So how are things going with that weird little red head, Chang?" Puck asks as they drive around.

"Fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Artie asks.

"No reason," Mike says.

"Ah, come on, Mikey," Puck says, slurring Mike's name. "Tell 'im."

"Noah is being a jerk because Wendy and I have some history," Rachel tells Artie before Puck can continue.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Mike's girlfriend totally made out with Rachel," Puck crows from the back.

"What?"

"During the summer, Wendy's best friend, Missy got it into her head that I should sleep with them," Rachel explains.

"Both of them?" Artie asks.

Rachel nods. "Yes."

"Life is so unfair," Artie says. "Why do you have Cheerios literally throwing themselves at you? And two at once?"

"Don't get that excited," Puck says. "Bro turned them down."

"I'm in love with Santana," Rachel replies.

"Still, dude, come on," Puck says, leaning forward. "Two hot chicks standing in front of you in just their underwear and you turn 'em down? You have impressive will power."

"They were in their underwear?" Artie asks.

Rachel blushes slightly. "Well, not the first time. But yes."

"Not the first time?" Artie exclaims. "So you had two Cheerios throwing themselves at you multiple times? God, life is just not fair."

"My sentiments exactly, Artie," Puck says.

"Wait a minute," Artie says. "But now you're dating one of them?"

Mike nods. "Britt said that Wendy actually had a crush on me before the whole Rachel chase things started. So when they both asked me out, I refused and just took out Wendy."

Artie groans. "They asked you out too? I'm done. I don't want to hear anymore of this story."

"It's less exciting than Puck's making it out to be," Mike says.

"Definitely," Rachel agrees. "The beer's making him very excitable."

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here," Puck grumbles.

**…**

"I'm sorry for being such a coward," Quinn tells Alyson.

"What makes you a coward?"

"Because I didn't invite you over," Quinn replies.

They're currently in the Berry guest room, cuddled together. Apparently when Alyson was visiting for Halloween, Rachel gave her a house key. The pair had met at Rachel's house and Alyson had let them inside.

It's odd for Quinn to be in Rachel's house without her. She's not naive; she knows all these favors are more for Alyson than Quinn, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

"I didn't invite you over either," Alyson points out.

"Yeah, but you know for a fact that your parents will freak out," Quinn replies. "I don't know that. Not for sure."

"Even if you did know one way or the other," Alyson says. "I'm still not sure we're ready for the whole meet the parents thing."

"That's true."

"And we already have so little time to spend together," Alyson continues. "Do you really want to spend it making nice with your mom?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Then I don't see the problem," Alyson says. "We get to spend time together. That's all that matters to me."

"Okay then."

"Good. Can we return to making out now?"

**…**

"Can we do something besides drive around?" Mike asks.

"Yeah," Artie agrees. "This is Lima. Even driving around is boring."

"They're right, Noah."

"Fine," Puck huffs. "Head to the movie theater."

"What movie are we seeing?" Artie asks.

"Wait and see."

**…**

"Time for bed," Marisa announces.

"No way," Tyler exclaims. "There's no school tomorrow."

"I know," Marisa replies. "Which is why mom said I could let you guys stay up an extra hour."

"You just want to make out with your girlfriend," Calvin accuses.

Marisa blushes. "That's not the reason."

"Not the only reason," Brittany adds.

Marisa elbows her. "You're not helping."

"I didn't realize I was supposed to," Brittany told her.

"We don't wanna go to bed," Tyler protests. "And you can't make us."

"Guys, come on," Brittany tells them. "Technically you were supposed to go to bed a half hour ago."

"You just wanna make out with our sister," Calvin says.

"I don't need you guys to go to bed for that to happen," Brittany replies.

"What?" Tyler asks. "You'd kiss her in front of us?"

Brittany shrugs. "Why not?"

"Prove it," Tyler says.

"Uh guys?" Marisa tries to interrupt.

"You're serious?" Brittany asks Tyler.

They both nod.

Brittany grabs Marisa and pulls her into an embrace. Before she can protest, Brittany is kissing her. Marisa resists, not comfortable kissing in front of her brothers, but when Brittany brushes her tongue against Marisa's lips, she can't help but sign and let Brittany deepen the kiss. Marisa lets out a soft groan and relaxes, wrapping her arms around Brittany.

"Ewww," the twins exclaim. "Fine. You win. We're going."

Neither Brittany or Marisa respond.

Tyler turns off their game and follows Calvin upstairs to get ready for bed.

Five minutes later when they pull apart, both girls notice they're alone.

"Oh god, they're going to give me so much shit for this later," Marisa groans.

"They went to bed, didn't they?"

"Yeah, they went to bed," Marisa admits.

"You're welcome," Brittany smirks.

**…**

Rachel's surprised that the stairway to the roof of the movie theater is wide enough so Mike and Noah can carry Artie and his wheelchair up it. She's also surprised to find additional lawn chair waiting for them. Setting down the cooler, Rachel's glad she works out. A thirteen gallon cooler full of beer isn't the easier thing to carry up two flights of stairs.

As Mike moves the cooler closer to the lawn chairs, Noah disappears back downstairs. Knowing what he's getting Rachel sinks into a lawn chair and grabs a beer. She gestures for Mike to join her as she hands one to Artie.

"It's November," Artie says. "Why are we on the roof?"

Rachel shrugs. "You cold?"

"We have coats," Mike says. "And the alcohol helps."

"So this is what you guys do?" Artie asks. "Drive around and then hang out on the roof?"

"Not exactly," Rachel replies.

"I don't know why," Artie says. "But I was expecting more.

"No offense," Rachel says. "But why did you guys agree to this?"

Mike shrugs. "Didn't have anything planned and my mom is a bit crazy when she's preparing for a holiday. It's best to be out of the house as much as possible."

"I was curious," Artie says. "Plus Puck wouldn't let up. He was like, 'C'mon, it's the night before Thanksgiving. We gotta party like it's 1999.' And so I finally said yes, so he'd stop bugging me."

"He did not say, like it's 1999," Rachel says.

"He did," Artie nods.

"I did in fact say that bro," Noah says, suddenly appearing behind them. He has a five gallon bucket full of water balloons with him.

"Water balloons?" Artie questions.

Noah holds up the sling. "Why else would we be up here?"

"With you, Puckerman, it's anyone's guess," Mike says.

"Whatever, just hand me a beer."

**…**

Santana is channel surfing. She's not in the mood to go to bed yet, but there's nothing interesting on.

"Didn't think you'd still be up," Felix says, flopping onto the couch next to her.

Santana shrugs.

"What's Rachel up tonight?"

"She's hanging with the guys," Santana replies.

"Huh," Felix says. "Didn't expect that answer."

"I'm glad, sort of," Santana replies. "I hate that she's alone in that house so much. Even if Puckerman is pathetic, at least he's keeping her company."

"She's hanging out with your ex?" Felix asks. "That's not weird?"

Santana shrugs again. "We got over it. Besides, she's with Mike and Artie too."

"Those guys from glee?"

"Yeah."

"Weird."

When Santana finally settles on a channel, they lapse into silence.

"Why didn't you go with?" Felix asks, after a few minutes.

"Besides the fact that mom said I had to stay home tonight?" Santana answers. "Wasn't invited."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure that-"

"Just stop. I don't want to hear it. Rachel and Puck are friends. They hang out a lot. It's a thing. It's fine."

"Jeez, I know you're nervous about tomorrow, but you don't have to be such a bitch."

"Sorry," Santana grumbles.

"Relax. Everyone's gonna love Rachel. You should instead worry that they'll love her more than you."

"That's already true," Santana replies. "I'm used to it. Besides, my girl deserves as many people who love her as possible."

"Awww, that is so sweet little sister," Felix teases.

"Shut up."

**…**

When they finally run out of balloons, it's late and Rachel's feeling tipsy. She drank a bit more than usual out of nervousness. Mike and Artie seem buzzed as well. Noah is drunk. Enough so that Rachel's not sure how they're going to get Artie down the stairs.

"Artie," Rachel says. "Can I have your keys?"

"Uh, sure. Why?"

"I'll walk Noah down to the car and then I'll find someone to help you get down the stairs."

"You want some help, Rach?" Mike asks.

"I should be okay. Plus, I hate to leave Artie up here all by himself."

"All right. We'll be waiting."

"Come on, Noah," Rachel says, grabbing his arm and pulling him up.

"Why?"

"Time to go home, bro," Rachel tells him.

Noah chuckles. "You rhymed."

"I am very amusing, I know," Rachel says as she leads him towards the stairs.

Agonizingly slow, they make their way down the stairs and out of the movie theater. When they reach Artie's car, Rachel helps Noah inside. She buckles him in and puts the bucket between his legs.

"If you need to throw up, use the bucket," Rachel tells him. "Artie doesn't deserve you vomiting in his car. Right Noah?"

"You got it, bro," Noah slurs.

Back in the movie theater, it takes asking three different people for Rachel to find Jerry. After explaining the situation, he agrees to help.

Up on the roof, Mike explains to Jerry how they usually carry Artie before beginning the slow process of heading down. They make it down in one piece, though Jerry claims his hand is cramping up towards the end.

As thank you for helping out, Rachel gives him the rest of Noah's beer, which ends up only being about eight cans, but she figures it's better than nothing.

When they reach the car, they find that Noah has puked in the bucket and passed out. Rachel empties it and rinses it out best she can with the melted ice from the cooler. It still smells a bit, so they drive with the windows open.

"Why didn't you just leave it?" Artie asks as he maneuvers out of the parking lot.

"In case he wakes up and throws up again," Rachel answers.

"How much did he drink?" Mike asks.

"Too much," Rachel replies. "He's taking this senior year partying thing way too serious."

"We should fuck with him," Artie says.

"How?"

"I have a permanent marker in the glove box," Artie says. "I want to draw a mustache on him."

"That could be fun," Mike agrees.

"Okay," Rachel agrees. "But Mike has to help me get him into his room."

"Deal."

**…**

Checking the time on her cell phone, Alyson says, "I should go."

"What time is it?"

"12:15."

"Shit," Quinn exclaims. "My curfew's midnight."

"Are you going to be in trouble?" Alyson asks. "Where does your mom think you are, anyway?"

"Hanging out with Rachel, Brittany and Santana here," Quinn answers. "I figured it's only a half lie that way."

Alyson chuckles. "So you won't get in too much trouble?"

"Hopefully not," Quinn says as slides out of bed. "I'll just say I fell asleep and lost track of time." Finding Alyson's shirt on the floor, next to her, Quinn tosses it onto the bed.

"Thank," Alyson says. "Good. I'd hate for you to get in trouble." She pulls her jeans on. "Especially because of me."

"Totally worth it," Quinn tells her.

"Sweet talker."

"You think you can sneak away sometime Saturday?" Quinn asks. "I should be able to hang out whenever."

"I think so," Alyson replies. "We don't do much Saturdays. And I'll be leaving Sunday morning."

"I wish you could stay longer."

Alyson wraps her arms around Quinn. "Me too, baby. But I'll be back for Christmas. For two weeks. Rachel said I could stay here for the second week."

Quinn sighs.

"What?"

"I just can't handle how great Rachel's being about this," Quinn explains. "It's making my guilt about bullying her even worse."

"Rachel's forgiven you," Alyson replies. "If she didn't, she wouldn't have set us up."

"I know. But once in a while…"

"Maybe we should just be grateful. After all, isn't that what Thanksgiving is about?"

"Yeah. It is."

"So," Alyson says. "We'll just be glad we're getting to spend time together. Right?"

"Right."

"Good because I hate to think of you being sad," Alyson continues.

Quinn offers a small smile. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," Alyson replies. "Do you want to go first? Since you're late?"

Quinn nods. She gives Alyson one more quick kiss before heading down the stairs and out the door.

Alyson waits until she hears Quinn's car drive away. She then waits three more minutes before making her exit as well.

**…**

Rachel and Mike try to be quiet as they half lead, half drag Noah into his house and up the stairs to his room. He's semi conscience and mumbling to himself, causing Rachel to worry that they're going to wake someone up.

To Rachel's relief, they make it to his room without being detected. They let Noah fall onto the bed. They roll him onto his side, so he doesn't drown in his own vomit if he does throw up. Rachel removes his boots as Mike digs around for a garbage can. He doesn't find one, but does manage to find Noah's football helmet. He figures it's better than nothing. He sets it next to the bed. Seeing this, Rachel just grins.

They tiptoe out of the house and manage to hold back their laughter until they're in Artie's Durango.

"Took you guys long enough," Artie says, quietly pulling out of the driveway. "I thought you'd been caught."

"So what if we had been?" Mike asks. "It's not like we were breaking and entering. If anything Mrs. Puckerman should be grateful we didn't leave his ass in his yard."

"It's too cold to do that, Mike," Rachel scolds.

"All the more reason she should be grateful."

"_He _should be grateful," Artie says.

"Don't worry," Rachel says. "He'll be sorry tomorrow when he wakes up."

"Thank you for getting rid of the bucket too," Artie says.

**…**

Rachel listens carefully when she gets home. She knows Quinn and Alyson have most likely gone home since it's after one and their cars aren't in the driveway, but she's too tired for surprises.

When she reaches her room, she finds a post-it stuck to the door.

_Rach, Thanks so much. We'll probably be back Saturday. Maybe I'll see you then? Alyson_

Smiling, Rachel removes the post-it from her door. Alyson can be such a sweetheart. Rachel's glad; Quinn deserves someone like that. She wonders if they realize part of the reason Rachel is okay with them using her house is because she feels guilty for the long distance relationship they have. Everyone once in a while, Rachel wonders if it would have better to find someone who didn't live in another state.

But then Rachel will see Alyson and Quinn together and stop questioning it.

Exhausted, Rachel climbs into bed. She'll probably end up sleeping later than normal, but she's okay with that. She know she'll most likely need all the sleep she can get. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

**…**

When Puck wakes up, it's horrible. His mouth is dry, but still tastes like old sneakers, his head is pounding, yet he also feels dizzy and his whole body feels sore. He sniffs a couple times and realizes, he also smells horrible.

He cautiously opens one eye and sees that it's only eight. His windows are wide open and letting the sun in, which explains why he's awake. He also has to pee. Figuring he can get some aspirin, he decides to risk getting up.

It takes a great deal of effort, but he's eventually standing, though he feels really unstable. He feels unsteady as he makes his way to the bathroom, eyes half closed and leaning against the hallway wall.

He just barely gets the lid up before he starts pissing. Once finished, he lets the lid slam down and flushes the toilet. At the sink, he downs several glasses of water and digs in the medicine cabinet for aspirin.

He finds some and takes four with two more glasses of water. Glancing in the mirror, he does a triple take.

"Those fuckers," he grumbles and then flinches, since even his low mumblings are aggravating his headache.

The reflection in the mirror, besides having bloodshot eyes and looking hung over, also has permanent marker on it. He has a long curling mustache that goes the length of his cheeks. His forehead reads, _mother fucking ball sack_; while under each eye is the word, _shit_.

Staring at himself, he gets a bad feeling and lifts his shirt.

Yep, there's more. There's a hand print turkey on his stomach with a speech balloon that reads, _Happy god damn Thanks-fucking-giving Bitches!_ There's a line that goes from his belly button to his right nipple then to his left nipple and back down to his belly button. His chest reads, _I am a huge fucking drunk ass douchbag._

He looks at his arms and sees that they're covered with flowers, hearts, butterflies, trees and smiley faces.

Feeling exhausted and hung over, Puck sighs. He drinks more water and slumps back to his room. Knowing he won't be able to sleep with the sun streaming in, he closes the blinds and then grabs his trash can out of the corner and puts it by his bed, just in case. He unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall to the ground. He removes his shirt and tosses it without looking. He then falls onto his bed with a grunt.

He and Rachel are going to have to have a talk, but for now, all he wants to do is sleep.


	37. Chains and Wedges

**Chapter Title:** Chains and Wedges  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Artie, Figgins, OCs, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Mike/Wendy, Emma/Jack, Tina, Missy, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Will  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rachel's pranks are getting bigger and people are starting to notice.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,650  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None  
><strong>AN:** Song is _Visit the Moon_ from Sesame Street. Thanks to bradstev for the prank idea, sort of.

* * *

><p><em>If you don't want to be locked inside McKinley today, do not go. If you do, be prepared. It could be a long wait.<em>

Looking at her cell phone, Santana has to wonder if maybe Rachel isn't being as cautious as she claims to be. If she was, would she be pulling such a big prank at the moment? Not to mention, Santana's willing to be bet this warning went out to_a lot_of people.

It does explain why they're not driving to school together today. Funny enough, Santana had been glad, since there's something she needs to do this morning without Rachel knowing. She spends the drive to Brittany's house worrying.

"Hey San," Brittany greets as she climbs into the car.

"Hey B," Santana says.

"What's wrong?"

"Didn't you get a text from the prankster this morning?"

Brittany nods. "I made sure my phone is fully charged. You know how long it takes them to figure things out."

"She's going to get caught."

"The argument could be made that she's already been caught," Brittany counters. "After all didn't Mike and Artie already figure it out? And technically, Finn?"

Santana groans. "Don't remind me."

"You shouldn't stress yourself out about it so much, San," Brittany continues. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it."

"What if she gets expelled?" Santana asks.

"Then we'll deal with it," Brittany replies. "It'll be okay."

Santana sighs. "Fine. I'll try not to worry. But you'll have to remind me. A lot."

"Can do, S."

**…**

Rachel finds Mike waiting for her when she arrives at her locker.

"Morning Mike," she greets.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" he asks, holding up his cell phone.

"Am I sure that what is a good idea?"

"I got a text from the prankster, this morning," he says lowering his voice.

"Oh. That."

"Yes that."

"It'll be fine, Mike," Rachel assures him. "Everything's set and it should go off without a hitch."

"I admire the guts this takes, Rach," Mike says. "But if Artie and I were able to figure it out, what's to stop more people?"

"For that to happen," Rachel replies. "People would have to see me as something besides the loser glee captain, don't you think?"

"I guess."

"I know I'm taking some risks here, Mike," Rachel tells him. "But isn't that the point?"

"I just hope you know what you're doing."

**…**

Santana heads straight for the music room when she arrives at McKinley, separating from Brittany who heads towards her locker.

To Santana's relief, Tom Mercer is sitting at the piano, apparently writing a song. She clears her throat as she approaches him.

He turns slightly and looks surprised to find her standing there; she doesn't blame him. She feels odd too.

"Hey, Tom," she starts. "I don't know if you remember me? Santana Lopez? Rachel's girlfriend?"

"I know who you are, Santana," Tom replies, wryly. "What can I do for you?"

"I know we're not like friends exactly, but I was kinda hoping you could teach me to play the piano?"

"Uh, wouldn't a piano teacher be more appropriate?" Tom asks.

"Normally, yes," Santana answers. "But I want to sing a song to Rachel for her birthday and I thought playing the piano myself as well might be a nice touch. So I was hoping you could help me learn it?"

Tom sighs. "Why did it have to be a romantic gesture?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just that if I say no, Beatrice will yell at me for blocking the romance," Tom explains.

"I won't be telling anyone if you say no," Santana tells him.

"No, it's fine," Tom says. "Let me see the song before I decide anything."

Santana nods. She digs in her backpack for a moment before handing him some sheet music.

He sits back down and begins to slowly play the song.

Tom plays the song a bit slower than tempo as he reads it for the first time. Nonetheless, Santana can't help but quietly sing the words. Having just decided to play as well as sing, she already has the song memorized.

"Nice choice," Tom says once he finishes playing. "All right. I think I can teach you this. Though isn't Rachel's birthday in like two weeks?"

"Yeah," Santana replies. "I know, but I just thought of the idea a couple days ago. And it's not like we're starting completely from scratch."

"I can only do this before school though," Tom says. "Too much going on after."

"Me too," Santana replies. "That's just fine. Tomorrow?"

Tom pulls out his cell phone and checks the time. "We've got some time now. How about I show you something quick that you can work on? With only two weeks, we might as well start now."

Santana joins him on the bench. "Thanks a lot, Tom. I owe you."

**…**

According to Rachel, a little after second period begins is the perfect time to lock all the doors. Most of the smokers have gone in and because it's the first week of December, P.E. classes happen inside the gym.

Since McKinley hasn't changed it's period times for over two decades, Billy knows for sure that second period is well underway. He sends a text to his brothers and then quickly begins looping the chain around the door handles. He snaps the padlock and steps back to admire his work. He then grabs the bucket of tools, chains and locks that's at his feet and rushes to the front door. That is the one that's going to need the most reinforcing.

**…**

Something feels off to Principal Figgins. Sitting at his desk, Figgins can't help but feel nervous. He slowly stands. He listens. Nothing sounds out of the ordinary. He decides to take a walk around. Just in case.

**…**

Santana doesn't really pay attention in first or second period, instead going over what Tom told her about playing the piano. Her being glee will certainly help, but she's still worried. She wishes she'd come up with the idea a few weeks earlier. Despite the confidence she had when talking with Tom, Santana's not really sure if she can learn the song in two weeks.

**…**

When Figgins reaches the front door, he sees movement in one of the windows. It looks like people running away. Jogging towards the door, he pushes it harshly, intending to call after them, but instead he slams into an unmoving door and stumbles backwards.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbles, rubbing his forehead.

He steps forward slowly and pushes against the door. It gives a little, maybe an inch or two, before it stops. He does the same with the other door. It responds the same.

It seems that his uneasy feeling was correct. He takes off down the hall towards the other entrance.

**…**

Rachel's phone buzzes near the end of second period. She discretely reads the text.

_It's done._

Smiling to herself, she puts her phone away and waits for the entertainment to begin.

**…**

After rushing to each door and finding it locked from the outside, Figgins lets himself have a moment of pure frustration, shaking the locked door until his ears are ringing from the metal clacking; after making sure he's alone first, of course.

Walking back to his office, he begins to outline a strategy. It might be possible to get the entire situation figured out without alerting the students. It could be his small victory against the prankster.

**…**

Rachel gets dragged to the choir room for lunch by Mike of all people.

"Don't you want to hear all the prankster speculation?" he asks.

"Not really," Rachel replies. "It's never anything new."

"Well maybe today will be different."

**…**

Not knowing exactly how the door is locked, Figgins isn't sure at first who to call. His first instinct is a locksmith, but he has a feeling, it won't be that easy. What he really needs is for someone to just _look_at it and assess.

**…**

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Jack says. "But you seem more nervous than usual."

Emma looks at Jack in surprise. She thought she was hiding her anxiety well, apparently not. Then again, she and Jack have really gotten to know each other.

"Oh, I received a text this morning from the prankster," Emma explains. "But how did you know I was worried about something?"

"You fidget a bit more and you're slightly easier to distract."

"Oh."

Emma supposes she shouldn't be surprised since she and Jack have been having lunch together every day, usually in her office because it seems the safest. Emma occasionally worries that she's stopping Jack from getting to know the other faculty, but Jack assures her it's fine.

"Should I be worried?" Jack asks. "What ridiculousness is going to occur today?"

The knock on Emma's door happens before she can answer.

It's one of the office aids. Emma is pretty sure his name is Jeremy. He hands Jack a note and leaves without a word.

Jack opens the note and quickly scans it.

"It says we're locked in," he tells her. "But I have a feeling that you already knew that."

Emma nods.

"Figgins wants to keep the students in the dark as long as possible," Jack continues.

Still nodding, Emma says, "Makes sense. He's probably getting sick of the prankster continuously outsmarting us."

"You've never told anyone that the prankster warns you?"

"Uh, well one person knows," Emma replies. "But we don't really talk about it anymore."

"Oh?"

"Will Schuester? He's the glee club advisor? He and I used to both get warnings. But when this school year started, I got one and he didn't. We haven't really talked about what it means."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure," Emma replies. "I mean, _I_know I don't want to have that conversation, but I'm not entirely sure why Will hasn't brought it up."

"Well I appreciate you extending the warnings to me as well," Jack says.

"I just wanted to make sure your time here doesn't scar you too much."

"You," Jack says. "Are adorably sweet."

Emma tries not to blush as she smiles her thanks.

**…**

It takes a lot of effort, but Figgins is finally able to convince Mitch, one of the janitors to go up to the roof and climb down to take a look at the door situation. It takes the promise of a two hundred dollar bonus stated on two separate cell phone videos before he'll agree.

Making sure he has a fully charged cell phone, Tony, the head janitor sends him up to the roof with a rope ladder. Watching him go, Tony has to wonder why they even have a rope ladder in the first place.

**…**

When Rachel and Mike arrive in the choir room, the speculation has already begun.

"What if the prank is that we're not actually locked in," Mercedes says. "After all, I haven't heard anything. Have you guys?"

"Please," Puck says. "Figgins doesn't want us to know. He probably figures we'll freak out."

"Of course we would," Artie says. "Who wants to be stuck in this place any longer than we have to be?"

"Why would the prankster play a prank on us?" Brittany asks. "I mean, he always warns us."

"Has anyone actually tried to go outside?" Tina asks.

"I have," Quinn says. "Doors are definitely locked."

"Why were you trying to go outside?" Santana asks.

Quinn shrugs. "I was curious."

"How long do you think we'll be stuck here?" Kurt questions the room.

"Depends on when Figgins figured it out," Santana replies.

"And how the doors are locked," Puck adds.

"I hope the prankster just glued all the doors shut," Brittany throws out.

Everyone stares at her in horror.

"That means we could be stuck in here for _days_," Kurt exclaims.

"Relax Hummel," Santana says. "I doubt the prankster glued the doors shut."

"Yeah," Mike adds. "He'd be stuck in here for days too."

"Unless he's not here today," Mercedes says. "What if he's just sitting outside laughing at us?"

"Does that mean you finally believe me when I say it's not me?" Santana asks Mercedes.

"Uh… I don't know."

"It's honest at least," Mike says.

"Who cares who it is?" Brittany questions. "As long as we keep getting warnings?"

"That's very pragmatic of you, Brittany," Rachel says.

"Thanks Rach." She grins widely. "Wait. That's good right?"

"Yes, Britt, that's good."

"Okay. Thanks."

**…**

By the end of lunch, it's all over the school that they're all locked in. A few of the burn outs had tried to sneak outside for a smoke, only to find all the doors blocked. Because of their annoyance, it doesn't take long for the information to get around.

**…**

Mitch goes to the front door first. He figures it's the most logical place to start. Looking at it, he can't help but sigh. He sees at least three thick locks attached to chains that are wrapped around the handles. Glancing at the door frame, he sees at least a dozen wedges fully stuck in between the door and the frame. The only space not taken up by the wooden wedges is instead taken up by the hinges.

He pulls out his cell phone and calls Tony. He explains the situation with as many details as possible. He then takes several pictures which he also sends to Tony. He then sits on the steps and waits for further instructions.

**…**

Marisa pokes her head into the choir room. She's surprised to see so many people inside. She waves shyly. "Hey guys."

"Hey," Brittany greets. "Where were you?"

"The whole school's buzzing about us being locked in," Marisa tells them. "But I guess you guys already knew that?"

"How does _she _know?" Kurt asks.

"About what?" Brittany asks.

"About us getting warnings," Mercedes says.

"Because I told her silly," Brittany says as she gets up and pulls Marisa into the room. "We are dating, after all."

Marisa feels herself blushing slightly. She thought most people know since she and Britt have been walking down the hall, holding hands for weeks.

"Why didn't I know that?" Kurt whispers loudly to Mercedes.

"Subtle, Hummel," Santana snickers.

Brittany sits and pulls Marisa into her lap.

"They're all over each other," Quinn says, sounding annoyed. "Like all the time. Why _didn't_you know that Kurt?"

"Too busy worrying about the damn prankster," Puck mutters.

"Or Q's gay panic," Santana mutters back.

"We can hear you guys," Kurt says.

"Whatever," Santana says. "Are we wrong?"

"Attention students."

Everyone looks up when Figgins' voice comes over the PA system.

"By now I'm sure everyone knows that we're locked inside the building. Please do no panic. The situation is being dealt with. Afternoon classes will continue as usual. We will update you when the problem has been fixed. Thank you for your cooperation."

The announcement is followed immediately by the bell. Everyone shuffles out of the choir room and heads towards their next class.

**…**

Since it seems like they have all the materials necessary to get the door open, Mitch is apparently going to take care of everything himself. He waits for the bucket to be lowered to the ground by Bob. Standing at the bottoms of the steps, just in case, he watches as Bob puts the bolt cutters in a white ten gallon bucket, ties some rope around the handle and then slowly drops the bucket to the ground.

Mitch takes out the bolt cutters and begins working on the locks. When they prove too thick for the bolt cutters, he decides to try the chains. They're not as thick and eventually by cutting the right links, the locks begin to fall onto the ground with a clank. He takes a few steps back, not wanting his feet to be crushed by the heavy looking locks.

The wedges are more difficult to deal with. They try a crowbar first. It mostly just cracks the wood, which unfortunately doesn't seem to loosen it. Next Mitch tries chiseling it, hoping that the force from the rubber mallet will push out the wedge better than the crowbar did. He ends up scraping the door frame more than anything else.

Bob suggests they use liquid Nitrogen on the wood and then it'll just shatter into pieces when it's hit. The only problem is they don't know where they can get liquid Nitrogen quickly or safely.

Following that line of thought, Mitch suggests fire. Tony immediately vetoes it as being too dangerous. However, after brainstorming for another twenty minutes, no other idea comes to mind, so Tony talks to Principal Figgins about it.

Seeing no other options, Figgins okays the project.

They start by covering the wedges with a tarp. Mitch then wets down everything around the wedges, including the ground to help deter the fire. He is then given two fire extinguisher, which he prepares for quick use; he loosens the pin and raises the hose. Next, he removes the tarp and soaks the wood and _only_the wood with lighter fluid. He's extremely careful to only get the lighter fluid on the wood.

The final things to be sent down in the bucket is a lighter used for grills and campfires as well as protective gloves for Mitch. Both Bob and Tony are also standing on the roof directly above the door ready with a hose, just in case.

With shaking hands, Mitch begins lighting the wedges. He starts at the bottom, figuring the fire will rise on its own. He's correct, the fire quickly rises and almost immediately he's using the extinguisher on the now ash wedges, just in case. Once the top one is burnt enough to crack easily, Mitch sprays it with the extinguisher. He then sprays everything surrounding it down as well just in case.

Hearing applause above him, Mitch looks up to find Tony and Bob clapping.

"Not bad," Tony says.

Mitch gives a mock half bow before trying the door. It opens easily.

**…**

The school day is almost over. Since the whole school now knows they're locked in, fewer than normal are staring at the clock, willing the day to be over. No one has faith that Figgins will figure out a way for them to get out before the school day is over. Even the teachers seem even more unenthusiastic than usual.

Therefore, everyone is surprised when the PA system crackles on.

"Attention, this is Principal Figgins. The doors have been unlocked. Please resume your regular schedule once class is over. Thank you."

Most classrooms erupt in cheering and clapping. Everyone enjoys seeing how the prankster seems to baffle the administration, especially when that involves school being canceled. However, this prank of forcing them to stay longer hasn't been one of their favorites.

The announcement also takes all focus from the student body and most teachers don't even bother trying to continue their lessons.

**…**

"They figured it out quicker than usual," Santana comments to Rachel that evening over the phone. She's just finished dinner and is supposed to be studying for her history test.

"Well, they did have like six hours," Rachel replies. "And really, it's not like the locks were elaborate or complicated."

"Just the one on the front door?"

"I knew that whoever would head there first and I wanted it to be a challenge. If they'd gone to the gymnasium door, they would have just found chains and locks."

"So you're saying it's their fault for being so predictable?"

"Exactly."

"I still think you've been taking a lot of chances lately, babe," Santana says.

Rachel sighs. "Isn't that the point?"

"Technically, I guess."

"And it's been over a year," Rachel continues. "I haven't been caught yet."

"Yeah, but people are starting to figure things out."

"Artie, Tina and Mike don't count," Rachel says.

"I'll be sure to tell them that."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Rachel replies.

It's Santana's turn to sigh. "I just worry about you, babe. Sometimes I think you don't give people enough credit."

"Because most of them haven't earned it," Rachel says. "But I appreciate the worrying."

"So you'll think about maybe slowing down a bit?"

"I promise to think about it," Rachel replies.

**…**

Rachel finds Artie at his locker Tuesday morning.

"Good morning, Artie."

"Hey Rachel," Artie replies. "You're in a good mood."

"Well, we're still singing our duet this afternoon, right?"

Artie nods. "I was planning on it."

"Well, then that explains why I'm in such a good mood. Right?"

Artie smirks. He has a feeling, Rachel's exuberance has more to do with the success of yesterday's prank, but that's not really something he can say out loud in the halls. "That it does."

"Good. Do you maybe want to practice one more time during lunch?" Rachel asks.

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll meet you in the auditorium then?"

"See you then, Rach."

**…**

Missy's being too quiet for Wendy's liking. When her best friend doesn't spend the lunch hour chatting, Wendy knows she's scheming. And while Wendy has no idea _what_she's contemplating, she doesn't have a good feeling about it.

"I'm not participating in anything involving Rachel Berry or Mike, anymore," Wendy blurts out.

Missy blinks at her a few times, apparently having been deep in thought. "Um, all right."

"I mean, I know we initially asked Mike out as some sort of plan related to getting Rachel, but I was never comfortable with that."

Missy sighs.

"And Mike and I are having a good time together. He graduates in June, so I don't see it going anywhere serious, but it's still fun."

"You seem happy," Missy says.

"I am."

"Fine," Missy says. "I'll come up with another plan."

"I don't see why you can't just drop it."

"I don't know either," Missy replies.

"Maybe you should talk to Ms. Pillsbury about it," Wendy suggests.

Missy lets out a bark of laughter, causing Wendy to jump. "That's not something I want to talk to _any_one about, much less a guidance counselor, especially _her_. She'd probably faint from shock and awkwardness. And then when she woke up, she'd have to report me for sexual harassment or something."

Wendy shrugs. "It was just a suggestion. I mean, you really need to let this whole thing go. Don't you think?"

Missy doesn't answer.

**…**

"So Artie tells me that he and Rachel have prepared a duet for us today," Mr. Schuester says once everyone's settled. "So I'll just hand the floor over to them."

Brittany raises her hand. "Why do you need to hand it to them? Are we supposed to be walking on our hands now?"

Mr. Schuester is the only one that looks at her oddly. Rachel and Artie make their way to the front of the room. Rachel grabs a chair and sits next to Artie.

Everyone's surprised when Rachel doesn't introduce the song with a small speech. Instead, she simply nods to Artie who begins playing his guitar. It's one of the few times they've seen him play an acoustic guitar and not an electric.

After a very short intro, Artie begins singing.

_Well I'd like to visit the moon,  
>On a rocket ship high in the air.<br>Yes, I'd like to visit the moon,  
>But I don't think I'd like to live there.<em>

He continues to play as Rachel begins singing.

_Though, I'd like to look down at the earth from above,  
>I would miss all the places and people I love<br>So although I might like it for one afternoon  
>I don't wanna live on the moon.<em>

Rachel bows her head as Artie begins singing again.

_I'd like to travel under sea,  
>I could meet all the fish everywhere<br>Yes, I'd travel under the sea,  
>But I don't think I'd like to live there.<em>

Rachel begins singing as Artie begins playing more enthusiastically.

_I might stay for a day there if I had my wish  
>But there's not much to do when your friends are all fish,<br>And an oyster and clam aren't real family,  
>So I don't wanna live in the sea.<em>

Artie then joins Rachel as they both finish the song.

_I'd like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar,  
>Go back in time and meet a dinosaur,<br>There's so many strange places I'd like to be,  
>But none of them permanently.<em>

_So if I should visit the moon,_  
><em>Well i'll dance on a moonbeam and then,<em>  
><em>I will make a wish on a star and I'll wish I was home once again.<em>

_Though, I'd like to look down at the earth from above,_  
><em>I would miss all the places and people I love<em>  
><em>So although I may go,<em>  
><em>I'll be coming home soon<em>  
><em>Cause I don't want to live on the moon<em>  
><em>No, I don't want to live on the moon.<em>

Once Artie finishes the last note, they each give a small half bow. Everyone begins clapping.

"That was great you guys," Mr. Schue exclaims as Artie and Rachel make their way back to their seats. "Maybe this year, an intimate duet would be a good idea. Do something a bit different."

"I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Shue," Rachel says.

"Of course you agree with him," Mercedes snips.

Turning slightly in her seat, Rachel says, "I'm not suggesting we use the duet Artie and I just did. However, I do feel the sentiment is correct. Two people on stage, playing their own music and singing isn't the usual. I think it would be an excellent second song in our set."

Santana, sitting in the back row next to Brittany, chuckles.

"That gives me an excellent idea for an assignment," Mr. Schue interrupts. "Who here can play an instrument?" He walks to the board and turns around. He writes down, Artie, Puck, Rachel, Finn, and Quinn. "Okay, so I want everyone to pair up. Make sure one of you can play an instrument and pick out a song that works well acoustically."

"Uh, Mr. Schue?" Finn raises his hand.

"Yes Finn?"

"I'm not sure me just playing the drums is what you're looking for."

"It's not the first thing that springs to mind," Mr. Schue agrees. "But that'll be a fun challenge for you and your partner."

Finn nods looking worried.

**…**

"Do you think Rachel would be open to pulling a prank with me?" Artie asks Tina as he drives her home.

"I don't see why not," Tina replies. "Not too long ago, I didn't think Rachel would even do a duet with someone."

"Well, she's used to sharing the stage with other people."

"I'm sure Puck has pulled pranks with her," Tina says. "He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's for sure," Artie agrees.

"I bet if you went to her with an idea and it was plausible, she'd go for it," Tina tells him.

"It would definitely be better to already have an idea handy," Artie replies. "If anything, coming up with something she hadn't even considered, means she'd probably be more likely to agree."

"Exactly."

"We should come up with something together," Artie continues.

"I don't know," Tina says. "Gluing the quarters down was… interesting, but I'm not sure I'm up for the elaborateness that Rachel's pranks have become."

"But that's half the fun," Artie says.

"I guess I just wasn't meant for all that, then," Tina tells him.

Artie pulls up in front of Tina's house.

"Well, I'm going to come up with something awesome and change your mind," he says.

"Good luck with that," Tina replies climbing out of the vehicle. "Thanks for the ride."

"Can I at least bounce ideas off you later?" Artie calls after her.

"Probably," Tina says, half shrugging.

"Awesome. See you tomorrow."

Artie gives a half wave, rolls up his window and pulls out of the driveway. Driving home, he begins to brainstorm.


	38. The Icing on the Cake

Trying this again. Thanks to ritagarcia45 for the heads up.

**Chapter Title:** The Icing on the Cake  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Santana and Puck want to make sure Rachel has the perfect birthday.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~5,850  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> References previous parts.  
><strong>AN:** I apologize for putting so many songs in this fic. All songs are listed at the end.

* * *

><p>"Hey babe?"<p>

Santana is currently stretched out on Rachel's bed trying to care about Calculus while Rachel reads _The Tempest_.

"Yes?"

"Did I tell you how awesome your duet with Artie was today?"

Rachel smiles. "You did."

"Good."

Rachel waits a moment before asking, "Is that it?"

"Well now that you mention it, I do have one more question."

Taking note of what page she's on, Rachel closes her bed and sets it on the bed. "Okay."

"Your birthday is coming up."

"It is," Rachel nods. "Was that the question?"

"Uh, no. I was just wondering what you wanted to do this year. I mean last year we had that surprise party, but I wasn't sure if you wanted that again."

"What makes you say that?" Rachel asks.

Santana rolls over and sits up. "I don't know. I guess it just feels like there's _more_going on. Maybe I'm just projecting, because I sometimes feel like I'm surrounded by chaos."

"I don't want to sound like Noah, but it is our senior year," Rachel says. "I believe it's mandatory."

"Okay, which brings me back to my original question. What would you like to do for your birthday?"

"Well I don't need a big surprise party this year, if that's what you're worried about."

"All right."

"Is it lame that I just want to spend the weekend with you? I feel like I've barely seen you lately."

"Me too, babe." Santana can't help but lean in for a kiss. And though she'd really like to just push all the books off the bed and have her way with Rachel, she has a test coming up that she's definitely not ready for. She pulls away with a sigh.

"I gotta get back to this."

"We'll celebrate when you get an A," Rachel tells her.

**…**

A week later, at the end of the day, Puck stops by Santana's locker.

"Lopez."

"Puckerman."

"So my bro's birthday is coming up," Puck says.

"Congratulations, you can read a calendar _and_remember a piece of information."

"I figure you get Saturday and Sunday. But I still get Friday right?"

"I suppose that's up to Rachel," Santana replies.

"Yeah?"

"She doesn't want a party," Santana explains. "So it's just going to be me and her. But if she wants to spend Friday night bro-ing it up, that's her choice."

"All right. I'll talk to her," Puck says. "Later S."

**…**

Six days later, Santana is in the music room with Tom, bright and early.

"Nice job, Santana," Tom says. "I think you've got it."

"Thanks Tom."

"Now it's time to try it without the music."

"What? Not possible," Santana replies. "I mean I only have a couple days."

"So?" Tom counters. "I don't know if you realize this, but you're not using the sheet music as much as you think."

"I appreciate it the vote of confidence, Tom, really," Santana says. "But this song has to happen perfectly. That's even more important than the presentation."

"Personally, I think they're equally important," Tom tells her. "Just try it once. If you completely fuck up, I'll drop it. I swear."

"Swear on this ridiculously expensive baby grand piano," Santana says.

Tom place his hand on the open lid. "I swear."

"All right. One time."

Sitting back down on the plastic chair he'd grabbed from the corner, Tom closes his eyes and listens. He feels confidence that Santana won't look at the sheet music since doing so would mean Tom _not _dropping the idea.

Once Santana's finished, he can't help but clap. "That was excellent."

"What are you talking about?" Santana asks. "I made like five mistakes."

"Five _tiny _mistakes," Tom tells her. "We can definitely fix those before Thursday."

"_Fine_," Santana replies. "But I reserve the right to change my mind."

"I wouldn't dream of disagreeing with you," Tom says with a smile. "Want to try it again?"

**…**

Puck's spent the last week coming up with possible ideas for Rachel's birthday. He knows if he goes to her without ideas, they'll end up sitting on the couch drinking. And that is _not_how his bro should celebrate her birthday.

"So bro," Puck says when he finds Rachel at her locker. "We're going to have to live it up this Friday, right?"

"It depends on what you mean by that, Noah," Rachel replies. "And why?"

"Uh, for you birthday, of course," Puck tells her. "I mean, it's our senior year. I may have mellowed a bit, but there are still some key moments that need to be properly celebrated."

"And my birthday is one of them?"

Puck nods.

"Let's hear your ideas then," Rachel says.

**…**

Thursday afternoon glee runs normally. They go through a possible group number for regionals, trying to stay focused, despite having only a week before winter break start.

"Okay," Mr. Schuester says. "We have one more song to perform before I dismiss you. Santana, uh, has requested to sing a song. So let's give her a round of applause."

Everyone claps as Santana stands and walks to the piano.

"So on Sunday it's my amazing girlfriend's birthday. And so this is the first part of my gift to her."

And then to everyone's shock, Santana sits down as Brad stands.

Rachel can only stare as Santana begins playing.

_I don't wear designer clothes  
>I don't go to the finest schools<br>But, I know I ain't no fool baby  
>I may not be a star<br>I'm not driving the sickest car  
>But, I know I can make you happy baby<br>I don't know what you been used to  
>Never been with a girl like you<br>But, I can give you a love that's true to  
>Your heart, not material things<em>

_I'll give you my song_  
><em>These words to you<em>  
><em>Sing you what I feel<em>  
><em>My soul is true.<em>  
><em>I don't have the world<em>  
><em>Can't give it to you girl,<em>

_But all that I can do__  
>Is give this song to you<em>

_Nah Nah_  
><em>Nah Nah<em>  
><em>Nah Nah<em>  
><em>Yeah I know that you are blessed<em>  
><em>But there's something you're missing yet<em>  
><em>Your own melody... oh baby<em>  
><em>I don't know what you been used to<em>  
><em>Never been with a girl like you<em>  
><em>But, I can give you a love that's true too<em>  
><em>Your heart, not material things<em>

_I'll give you my song_  
><em>These words to you<em>  
><em>Sing you what I feel<em>  
><em>My soul is true<em>

_I don't have the world  
>Can't give it to you girl<em>_  
>But all that I can do<em>_  
>Is give this song to you<em>

_I'll give you my heart, my song, my words baby_  
><em>What I can say, I'll sing it.<em>

_Oh, Oooh, Oooooh  
>I'll give my song an the rest to you baby, baby<br>Sing you what I feel, my soul is true_

_I'll give you my song_

_These words to you  
>Sing you what I feel<br>My soul is true  
>My soul is true<br>I don't have the world  
>Can't give it to you girl<br>But all that I can do  
>Is give this song to you<em>

There's a moment of stunned silence when Santana finishes. She stands nervously as everyone begins to clap. Rachel stands slowly and walks over to Santana.

"That was incredible," she whispers, wrapping her arms around her.

"I'm glad you liked it," Santana whispers back.

"I didn't know you could play the piano, Santana," Mr. Schue says.

"I can't," Santana replies. "I just learned that song."

"Impressive."

Rachel kisses Santana chastely. "You are so amazing."

"Well that's all for today guys," Mr. Schue says. "See you next week."

Puck is the first to reach Santana. He smacks her on the back. "Not bad, Lopez."

"Whatever, dude," Santana replies. "I don't need your approval."

Puck elbows her as she accepts the others' praise. Her other hand stays firmly intertwined with Rachel's, who can't stop gazing adoringly at her girlfriend.

**…**

"You'd tell me if you didn't like it, right?" Santana asks Rachel as they drive to her house.

"Of course I would, San," Rachel replies. "But you should really know that singing me a song is never a wrong move."

"Oh I know that," Santana says. "But there are other factors to consider. Song choice, instrument choice, uh…"

"Well, I thought it was perfect, just the way you did it," Rachel tells her.

"You deserve perfection."

"Who knew Santana Lopez was such a romantic?" Rachel muses as they pull into her driveway.

"Don't say things like that out loud," Santana tells her as they climb out. "Or I'll be forced to take you inside and ravage you."

"How is that a bad thing exactly?" Rachel asks, unlocking the front door.

"Maybe I use the handcuffs."

"Considering what happened the last time we used handcuffs, that _is _a threat," Rachel teases. "I thought we were going to stick to scarves?"

"Fine, I'll use the scarves then," Santana says. She slaps Rachel's ass. "Now get your ass up to your room and strip."

"Bossy. I like it."

**…**

"So are you finally telling me what we're doing tonight?" Rachel asks.

It's Friday night and she's sitting in Noah's truck as they drive somewhere. He's been unusually secretive about the whole evening, which makes Rachel nervous. If Noah's being secretive, the past has shown Rachel that she has reasons to be concerned.

"You know what surprises me the most about you bro?"

"Do I want to?" Rachel questions.

"I figured for sure, as someone who is a fan of big romantic gestures, that surprises would be a good thing."

"They can be," Rachel replies. "In the right context."

"The right context?" Noah questions. "Boring."

"So where are we going?"

"This bar I know," Noah answers. "It's a little out of the way, but I'm sure you'll love it."

"If this is a gay bar-"

"It's not. Well, I don't think it is. And if it _is_, that is not the reason we're going there."

"All right," Rachel says. "How much longer?"

"Ten minutes maybe?"

"But you're not going to tell me _why_we're going there?"

"Nope."

**…**

Rachel doesn't feel much better when Noah pulls into the dirt parking lot of Pete's. It looks like a decrepit old shack in the middle of the woods. Noah's truck fits in perfectly as he parks between two other well driven vehicles.

"Thank you for telling me to wear jeans," Rachel says as they walk inside.

Noah just smirks.

Inside isn't what Rachel expected. There's a bar against one wall and a stage in the corner. It has two stools, two mic stands and a small TV on it. Next to the stage is a woman in her late twenties apparently setting up karaoke.

"Karaoke?" Rachel asks.

Noah nods.

The rest of the bar is filled with small tables and chairs. There's a jukebox in another corner next to signs directing people to the restrooms. The place isn't that full. There are five or six people at the bar and maybe eight people sitting in the audience, obviously waiting for the karaoke to start.

"Go grab a book and a table," Noah tells her. "I'll get us drinks."

"Noah, don't-"

"Soda, Rach," Noah interrupts. "I swear."

"All right," Rachel nods.

**…**

Noah hands her a bottle of water when he returns.

"It's probably the only thing here vegan," he explains with a shrug.

Rachel smiles. "We're doing a duet, right?"

"Of course," Noah replies. "Though I reserve the right to veto your choice."

"That seems fair," Rachel says. "I'm going to go hand in my first song." She stands. "You're singing, right?"

"You got it, bro."

**…**

"Okay, our next singer is Rachel and she'll be singing, All That Jazz," the woman who is running the Karaoke, whose name is Natalie, announces.

Rachel jumps up and hurries onto the stage. She accepts the mic with a slight curtsey and waits for the music to start.

**…**

"I've found the perfect duet for us," Rachel says. "_You Don't Bring Me Flowers_."

"Seriously, Rach? I mean, I know you love Barbra, but it's so…"

"But it's Barbra, like you said. Plus, Neil Diamond. You like him, right?"

"I suppose." Noah sighs. "Fine. But then I get to pick a duet for us of my choosing."

"I get veto power right?"

"You do," Noah replies. "But you'll have to argue your case well."

"Very well," Rachel says. "I accept your challenge."

"All right, next up we have Noah singing _Last Christmas_."

The audience applause is sporadic at best as Noah walks up to the stage. He grabs the mic and says, "I know it's cheesy to pick a Christmas song, especially considering what happens in about a week, but I don't consider this a Christmas song, not really, anyway. So yeah."

Noah doesn't have to start singing for almost a minute after the music starts. He uses this time to prance around stage in a manner that makes Rachel reach over and sniff his drink to make sure it doesn't have liquor in it.

When he finally starts singing, Rachel can't help but grin. Despite the time of year, she approves of his song choice.

**…**

As time passes, more people arrive and so the wait between their songs increases. Rachel doesn't mind. She still can't believe Noah brought her here without any prompting or begging. And the fact that he's going to sing a Barbra song with her is like icing on the cake.

Therefore when their names are announced, Rachel practically bounces up to the stage. She does a few jumps once they're on stage and Puck's worried that she's going to vibrate off the stage because she's so excited. However, once the music starts, she calms.

_You don't bring me flowers  
>You don't sing me love songs<em>, Rachel sings.

As Rachel lowers her mic, Puck starts, _You hardly talk to me anymore  
>When you come through that door at the end of the day...<em>

Rachel turns to face Puck as she sings. _I remember when you couldn't wait to love me  
>Used to hate to leave me<br>Now after loving me late at night_

_When it's good for you, babe_  
><em>And you're feeling all right;<em> Puck sings back.

Rachel seems to be channeling Barbra Streisand as she sings, _When you just roll over and turn out the light...  
>And you don't bring me flowers anymore<em>

_It used to be so natural_, Puck sings.

Rachel sings back, _It used to be..._

Puck is starting to get into it, _To talk about forever_

_Mmm..._ Rachel half sings, half hums.

Puck grabs Rachel's hand as he sings, _But used-to-bes don't count anymore  
>They just lay on the floor<br>Till we sweep them away_

Rachel smiles sweetly as she sings back, _And baby I remember all the things you taught me_

Dropping her hand, Puck has his hand on his chest as he sings, _I learned how to laugh and I learned how to cry_

Rachel mirrors his action as she sings back, _Well, I learned how to love and I learned how to lie_

Puck looks right into Rachel's eyes as he sings, _So you think I could learn how to tell you goodbye_

Rachel is staring back just as intently. _So you think I could learn how to tell you goodbye  
>You don't bring me flowers any more...<em>

As they link hands, they both sing, _Well, you think I could learn how to tell you goodbye..._

Puck turns to face her. _Cause you don't say you need me;_

Rachel faces Puck as well. _You don't sing me love songs;_

They both face the audience as they sing the last line. _You don't bring me flowers anymore..._

The audience claps loudly as they bow and hand the mics back. Rachel skips back to her seat and trying to hide his smile, Puck follows.

**…**

After getting them another drink, Puck sits down and starts going through the book looking for a good duet.

Rachel twists open the new bottle of water and tries not to cringe at the singer on stage who is butchering _My Heart Will Go On_.

When Puck eventually looks up, he sees a guy jumping around on stage singing, Without Me.

"Found it," he says.

"Oh?"

"Yep," Puck replies. "Perfect duet for us." He writes all the information down on the slip and slides it over to Rachel, so she can read it.

Rachel nods thoughtfully. "All right."

"Next up, we have Rachel," Natalie announces. "And she'll be singing, _Being Alive_."

"Hand that in, will you?" Puck asks.

Rachel nods and prances up to the stage. She hands Natalie the slip of paper and eagerly accepts the mic.

**…**

Because the bar is pretty full, Puck is worried that they won't get to the duet before the night is over. He supposes he doesn't mind, since this night is supposed to be all about Rachel. But he does enjoy singing with his bro and he'd like to sing a song of his choice.

"All right everyone that was Jason singing _Live and Let Die_," Natalie says. "We have time for one more before we call it a night. So let's get Noah and Rachel up here to sing _Under Pressure_."

Accepting a mic, Puck looks over at Rachel. It's obvious that she enjoys being on stage, no matter what song and he can't help but smile.

Rachel starts first, _Mm ba ba de  
>Um bum ba de<br>Um bu bu bum da de_

They both start singing, _Pressure pushing down on me  
>Pressing down on you, no man ask for<br>Under pressure_

Rachel takes over, _that burns a building down  
>Splits a family in two<em>

And then Puck adds, _Puts people on streets_

Bouncing slightly, Rachel sings, _Um ba ba be  
>Um ba ba be<br>De day da  
>Ee day da - that's okay<em>

Then Puck starts, _It's the terror of knowing  
>What this world is about<br>Watching some good friends  
>Screaming<em>

They both sing, _Let me out_

Rachel sings _Pray tomorrow - gets me higher_

Puck joins in, _Pressure on people - people on streets_

Dancing slightly to the music, Rachel sings, _Day day de mm hm  
>Da da da ba ba<br>Okay  
>Chippin' around - kick my brains around the floor<br>These are the days, it never rains but it pours  
>Ee do ba be<br>Ee da ba ba ba  
>Um bo bo<br>Be lap  
>People on streets - ee da de da de<br>People on streets - ee da de da de da de da_

Puck then takes over, _It's the terror of knowing  
>What this world is about<br>Watching some good friends  
>Screaming<em>

They both sing, _Let me out_

Rachel sings, _Pray tomorrow - gets me higher high high_

Then Puck sings, _Pressure on people - people on streets_

They both sing, _Turned away from it all like a blind man  
>Sat on a fence but it don't work<em>

And then Rachel stops as Puck sings, _Keep coming up with love  
>but it's so slashed and torn<em>

Rachel sings, _Why - why - whyyyyyyyyyyyy?_Holding the last note for almost fifteen seconds.

As she holding the note, Puck sings, _Love love love love love  
>Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking<em>

Rachel sings, _Can't we give ourselves one more chance  
>Why can't we give love that one more chance<br>Why can't we give love give love give love give love  
>give love give love give love give love give love<em>

Puck takes over, _Cause love's such an old-fashioned word  
>And love dares you to care for<br>The people  
>on the edge of the night<br>And love dares you to change our way of_

They both finish the song, _Caring about ourselves  
>This is our last dance<br>This is our last dance  
>This is ourselves<br>Under pressure  
>Under pressure<br>Pressure_

Everyone starts clapping as the music ends and they both give a half bow before Rachel hops off stage and Puck follows, sauntering after.

**…**

The drive home is filled with Noah blasting the radio and singing loudly, no matter what the song. Rachel can't help, but join in, though she's laughing more than singing. His rendition of _Come Sail Away _is almost too much for her to handle.

When they reach her house, Noah pulls into the driveway, but doesn't shut off his truck.

"You're not coming in?" Rachel asks.

"Naw," he replies. "I mean, I'm not drunk and I'm sure Santana will be over here bright and early tomorrow. It just makes sense for me to go home."

"Oh. Well thanks for tonight. I had a great time."

"Me too," Noah says. "Oh hey." He reaches into the space behind the seats and pulls out a paper bag. "Since you're not having a party this year, the guys gave these to me to give to you tonight."

"What is it?"

"It's birthday presents," Noah tells her. "From me, Britt, Marisa, Mike, Artie, Tina and Quinn."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"But… really?"

He nods.

"Thank you." Rachel accepts the grocery bag. "Will you at least come in while I open yours?"

"I think I can do that."

Once they're inside, Rachel sits on the couch and digs through the bag. She pulls out a box wrapped in gold paper.

"Too much?" Noah asks, gesturing to the paper.

"It's sweet," Rachel assures him.

"I had someone else wrap it," Noah says. "Otherwise, it would probably be more tape than paper."

Nodding, Rachel slowly opens it, careful not to tear the paper. She then opens the white box, not sure what to expect. She lifts some tissue paper to find a framed picture of her and Noah. It's of the two of them, singing together last year; someone must have snapped it during glee.

"Cheesy, I know," he says.

"It's perfect," Rachel replies.

"There's more," Noah grins.

Rachel nods again and pulls out the tissue paper. "Seriously, Noah?" she asks, holding up a packet of edible underwear.

"They're chocolate flavored," Noah tells her, smirking. "I was going to get the berry flavored one, but I thought that might a little too spot on."

Shaking her head, Rachel sets them back in the box and stands. She pulls Noah into a hug. "Thank you."

"You like it?"

"I do," Rachel replies. "It's so… you."

"As your bro, it's my job to encourage your sex life."

"Thank you, I guess."

"All right, bro," Noah says. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you Monday."

"Good night, Noah."

**…**

After she walks Noah out, Rachel is left alone with a bag of presents. She knows she should wait, but she can't help it; she's curious. She sits back down on the couch and pulls out a present.

It's a CD case with a bow on it and a small card that says, _Happy Birthday Rachel Artie_

It's a mix CD. She recognizes some of the names on the track list, but there are enough that she doesn't. She and Artie have ended up talking about music a lot lately and he always teasing saying that he needs to introduce her to _his_music.

The next thing she pulls out is white envelope. She carefully pulls it open and pulls out the card. The front has about half a dozen pink yard flamingos looking down at the camera. In the top left corner it says, _If this is the first thing you see the morning after your birthday celebration, you may want to ask yourself these important questions:_ She opens the card and can't help but laugh: _Am I naked? Is this my front yard? Who are these people and why are their necks so long?_

Then under that in her precise penmanship is a short note from Quinn. _Berry, don't let Puckerman or Lopez get you into too much trouble this weekend. You create enough of it by yourself. Just a little something from Alyson and me. Happy Birthday. Quinn_

There's an iTunes gift card taped to the other interior side of the card.

It makes Rachel smile. She hadn't been expecting anything from either of them. It's a pleasant surprise.

The next card is from Tina. _Happy birthday, Rachel Tina _There's a gift card from Between the Sheets.

Mike's gift is three books: _Vegan Cooking for Those Who Aren't, How to Fix EVERYTHING and Hello Gorgeous: Becoming Barbra Streisand._

The final gift is the largest and is from Brittany and Marisa. Rachel reads the card first.

_Rachy, Somethings I thought would be fun for you and San. Britt_

_Happy birthday, Rachel. These were Brittany's idea. I'm just along for the ride. Marisa_

Rachel chuckles after reading Marisa's part. That's probably the perfect description of their relationship.

The paper is pink with white polka dots. She unwraps it and laughs. It's _Hungry, Hungry Hippos_. Rachel has a vague memory of Britt saying that it's her favorite game. She lifts the game box to see what the second box is and just shakes her head. The second box is also a game, called _The Bedroom Game_. It also proclaims that it's guaranteed to spice up her sex life.

It's just so Brittany, Rachel laughs. She can't wait to see what Santana thinks of it.

**…**

When Rachel wakes up bright and early Saturday morning, she's surprised to find Santana spooning in bed with her. What amuses her is that Santana is naked, despite Rachel's own sleepwear choice of flannel pants and a tank top. Rachel wonders why if she's cold, though considering how tightly she's wrapped around Rachel, maybe she is.

"San," Rachel whispers. "San."

"Mmmm. Sleeping."

"San, when did you get here?"

"Sunrise," Santana murmurs, inching closer and tightening her grip around Rachel.

"Okay," Rachel says as she closes her eyes and relaxes into her girlfriend's embrace. "Sleep then."

"Yay," Santana mutters, already sleeping again.

**…**

When Rachel wakes up, it's definitely later. This time when she tries to wake Santana, it's easier.

"Hey babe," Santana smiles.

"You're here early."

"Couldn't sleep."

"You are too adorable," Rachel tells her.

"Don't look at me like that," Santana says. "We have finals this week and then it's Christmas and then Alyson will be around and then we'll be back to school. This weekend is gonna be just you and me because it won't be for a while."

"You're such a sap."

"Oh hush, you love it."

**…**

Rachel doesn't get a chance to bring up the gifts until after lunch. Santana asks, noticing the grocery bag sitting by her desk.

"Oh Noah gave me a birthday gift," Rachel explains. "And I guess the others decided he would be the best delivery guy."

"Oooh, what'd you get?"

Rachel feels Santana needs to experience the ridiculous for herself, so she gestures for her to look.

Santana hops off the bed and grabs the bag. She sits back down on the bed with so much enthusiasm, Rachel almost thinks it's Santana's birthday.

"Seriously Puckerman?" Santana mutters, holding up the edible underwear.

Rachel just shrugs.

Mike's book choices make her smile. "Chang's a good guy."

Brittany and Marisa's gift gets a laugh when Santana sees _Hungry, Hungry Hippos_.

"Britt and I used to play this all the time until I broke it from pushing down too hard."

Rachel chuckles. She can imagine how competitive six-year-old Santana was.

"Really B?" Santana says, looking at _The Bedroom Game_.

"At least her intentions were slightly better than Noah's," Rachel says.

Santana is shaking her head. "I don't know if I should be insulted because she's insinuating our sex life needs spicing up or amused because she wants us to spice things up in the bedroom."

"I'm going with the second one," Rachel tells her.

**…**

Saturday is spent in bed, which is something they haven't done in a while. Santana feels like it's been weeks since she's had a proper amount of time with her girlfriend. Nonetheless, she can't help but ask, "Are you sure you don't want to do anything else?"

"I told you, San," Rachel replies. "All I want to do is spend the weekend with you."

"Yeah, but-"

"You and I against the world, remember? I never thought that randomly hooking up with you would change my life so dramatically," Rachel tells her. "All the good things in my life? They're because of you."

"That's not true."

"You stopped the slushies, the bullying, I get to have family dinners every Sunday and I have an amazing girlfriend," Rachel says. "All because of you."

"Yeah, well I have an awesome, badass girlfriend who pulls pranks, outsmarts the administration and can still belt out a song on a moment's notice," Santana counters. "I say we both got a good deal."

"I suppose I can agree to that."

**…**

"Why do you keep looking at the clock?" Rachel whispers as she and Santana cuddle.

"Because," Santana says. "It's your birthday now, so I wanna be able to give you your gift."

"San."

Santana rolls over slightly and grabs a metallic pink gift bag from the floor. "Happy birthday, babe."

"Santana, you didn't have to," Rachel says. "The song was-"

"Don't even," Santana interrupts. "It's my girl's birthday, she gets gifts."

Rachel just nods shyly, pushing aside the tissue paper. She pulls out a mace keychain. She looks at Santana.

"The theme is things you're going to need for New York."

Rachel grins and reaches back into the bag. She pulls out a small black book, _NFT: Not For Tourists Guide to New York City_. The next thing she pulls out is a CD case.

"I know a mix CD is cheesy, but," Santana shrugs. "They're songs that say how I feel about you."

Rachel's grin gets larger as she leans forward and kisses Santana softly. "You know I love it."

Rachel pulls out a T-shirt next. She unfolds it and chuckles. It's two people with silverware chasing a bowl of, what Rachel assumes is, tofu. And then under it says, _Vegans Gone Wild_.

The final item in the bag is a small, rectangular white box. Rachel pulls it out slowly and opens it. Inside is a white gold heart that has two diamonds in prong settings in the center of the heart.

"Oh, Santana, it's beautiful."

"It's a Duo heart pendant," Santana says, trying not the blush. "Duo Jewelry is supposed to be designed to celebrate a couple's love."

"It's perfect," Rachel says. "I'd ask you to put it on me, but considering my state of undress, it might give me _Titanic _flashbacks."

Santana laughs. "That's fine. My drawing skills aren't that great, anyway. I'm just glad you like it."

"I love it," Rachel assures her. "I love it all. This might be my best birthday yet."

"Even better than last year?"

"You make every birthday special, tiger."

"I'm just trying to make the day as special as you," Santana smiles.

**…**

Sunday morning, Rachel wakes up to the smell of coffee and… waffles. She's also alone in bed. Looking at the time, she sees it's still early. She is impressed that Santana's awake and functioning since they didn't fall asleep until just a few hours ago.

She's debating whether or not to get up when she hears Santana coming quietly up the stairs. Since the decision has been taken from her, Rachel closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep. She feels Santana's gentle presence on the bed and tries not to smile.

"I know you're awake, babe," Santana whispers.

"No I'm not," Rachel whispers back. "I'm sleeping."

"You're awake."

"No, see, my eyes are closed."

"But you're talking to me."

Rachel opens her eyes and finds her girlfriend sitting in front of her with a single rose.

"Happy birthday, Rach." Santana holds out the flower. "It's almost as beautiful as you."

"You are ridiculously sweet," Rachel says, sitting up. "Come here." Rachel pulls Santana in for a kiss and lets herself fall back onto the bed.

Kissing back, Santana straddles Rachel, letting her hands enjoy all of Rachel's exposed skin. When Rachel tries to push Santana's pajama pants down, Santana reluctantly stops her.

"As much as I loved to let you have your wicked way with me, babe," she says. "I have breakfast ready for you downstairs and it's probably getting cold."

"It's your fault for coming in here all sexy," Rachel pouts.

Santana looks at her red and white striped pajama pants and wife beater. "I think you might be biased."

Rachel just smirks as she grabs her clothes off the floor.

**…**

When they reach the bottom of the steps, Santana makes Rachel cover her eyes. She leads her to the kitchen table and has her sit.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

On the table sits a stack of waffles, a bowl of fresh, cut up fruit and another rose in a vase. Santana sets a mug of coffee in front of Rachel.

"Well dig in."

"Oh my god, Santana," Rachel groans after taking a bite. "These are amazing."

"Your recipe," Santana smiles. "I just followed 'em."

"Good. That means you can make breakfast more often," Rachel replies.

"Anything for you, babe."

"You are getting so many orgasm for these waffles," Rachel says between bites. "I mean, you were already getting them, but now… now, it will be my singled minded focus."

Shaking her head and chuckling, Santana just piles some fruit onto her plate.

**…**

"Good birthday?"

"My favorite so far," Rachel replies.

"And you don't mind still going to Sunday dinner?" Santana asks.

"You know I enjoy spending time with your parents, San," Rachel says.

"Good because mom is all excited about this new vegan lasagna recipe she found. Eggplant, I think."

"Oooh, sounds tasty."

"I don't know," Santana says. "I don't think food should be purple."

"What about grape?" Rachel asks.

"That's a flavor," Santana replies. "That's different."

"Any other colors you hate?"

"I don't hate the color purple," Santana insists. "We just don't always see eye to eye."

Since Santana is driving, Rachel is free to stare at her in disbelief. "Is my quirkiness rubbing off on you? Or have you just stopped trying to hide it?"

"Probably the second one," Santana says. "Don't pretend you don't find it adorable."

"Don't worry," Rachel assures her. "I won't."

"Good. Because we're here."

The moment the car is off, Santana is hoping out and opening Rachel's door for her. "M'lady."

Giggling, Rachel steps out. "Thank you."

"Anything for you babe, you know that."

Rachel stops their stroll towards the front door. She pulls Santana into a soft kiss. "I do," she says when she pulls away. "It's one of the many reasons I love you."

Santana smiles brightly. She never gets tired of hearing Rachel say that. "I love you too."

"All right you two. Stop giving the neighbors a show and get in here."

Groaning, Santana replies, "We're coming mom."

"At least I get to sleep over, right?"

Santana nods. "Thank goodness for small favors." She offers Rachel her arm. "Shall we?"

Nodding Rachel accepts. "We shall."

Songs  
>-Santana's song is "Song to You" by Leon Thomas III<br>-Rachel's first song is "All That Jazz" from Chicago  
>-Puck's song is "Last Christmas by Wham<br>-Rachel and Puck's first duet is "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" by Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond  
>-Rachel's second song is "Being Alive from Company<br>-Rachel and Puck's second duet is "Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowe  
>-"Live and Let Die" is by Paul McCartney and Wings<br>-"My Heart Will Go On" is by Celine Dion  
>-"Without Me" is by Eminem<br>-"Come Sail Away" is by Styx


	39. Letting the Cat Out of the Bag

**Title:** Letting the Cat Out of the Bag  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Quinn/Alyson, Brittany/Marisa, Mike/Wendy, Puck, Josh Tyler, Artie, Tina, Kat Tyler, Felix Lopez, Missy, Jack/Emma  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It's winter break.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>~9,750  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Nope.  
><strong>AN:** Follows **The Icing on the Cake**. So I thought I'd posted this forever ago, so I apologize for not doing so. Thanks to the anon who pointed this out to me.

* * *

><p>When Rachel wakes up to an obviously empty house Monday morning, she tries not to be disappointed. She's pretty sure that the only reason her fathers have spent every Christmas with her is because <em>nothing's<em> open on the 25th. They have no choice.

She hopes that wasn't true when she was younger, but it is definitely true now. And this year was even worse since she and her daddy are at odds. Her dad tried his best to smooth things out between them, but neither of them are willing to compromise; they definitely have stubbornness in common.

Rachel just wishes she could figure out why her daddy can't or won't give Santana a chance.

She lets herself lay in bed, feeling sorry for herself for exactly ten minutes before getting up and starting her usual morning routine. Just because it's winter break, doesn't mean she's going to abandon her entire routine. Besides, Alyson will probably show up today and she wants to be ready for her arrival.

**…**

Because Kat wants to spend more time with her sister, Rachel is at the Tyler house at one p.m. to pick her up. She'd gotten a very hyper call from Kat a few hours ago when the fourteen year old found out her big sister was leaving so soon.

"It's not that I don't understand it," Kat told Rachel. "I do. Our parents are just so… _unbelievable_, especially towards Alyson. I think it's cause she's been at school and they haven't been able to lord over her like they can me and Josh."

"Is Alyson okay with it?" Rachel interrupted.

"She says she is."

"All right, I'll be over after lunch."

"Thanks Rachel."

Ringing the doorbell, Rachel tries to not feel like such a conspirator. Thankfully, Alyson answers the door.

"Hey Rachel."

"Afternoon Alyson," Rachel says. "Leaving already?" Rachel points to the duffel bag sitting near by.

Alyson nods. "Yeah, you can get a lot done when you're the only one on campus, you know?"

"I can imagine. No distractions."

"Exactly," Alyson agrees. "I suppose you're here for Kat?"

Rachel nods. "In fact, I was thinking that maybe she could sleepover. What do you think about that?"

Alyson looks surprised. "Really?"

Rachel nods again. "Bad idea?"

Alyson thinks about it for a moment. "No. Good idea. Definitely. Do you want to come in and ask my mom?"

"Thanks." Rachel steps inside and lowers her voice. "You didn't have to say yes you know. I haven't mentioned it to Kat because I wanted to make sure-"

"It's fine, Rachel," Alyson interrupts. "You're a good friend."

In the kitchen they find Mrs. Tyler making a shopping list.

"Hey mom, Rachel's here."

"Afternoon Mrs. Tyler."

"Oh hello Rachel. So nice to see you. Kat tells me the two of you are hanging out this afternoon?"

Rachel nods. "I was actually thinking that maybe she could spend the night and I could bring her back in the morning. But I didn't want to bring it up before asking you. I'd rather not get her hopes up."

"That is so nice of you Rachel," Mrs. Tyler replies. "But I don't see why she can't sleep over. It'll be a nice distraction since this one here is leaving soon."

"Excellent," Rachel says. "Do you mind if I go up and tell her?"

"Not at all dear. Alyson, honey, why don't you show Rachel where Kat's room is."

"Sure mom."

"Did she forget how many times I've been over here?" Rachel whispers as they ascend the stairs.

"Knowing her? Yes."

**…**

Santana's car is in the driveway when Kat and Rachel pull up. However, when they walk into the kitchen, both are surprised to see not only Santana sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee, but Quinn as well.

"You seem to be popular today," Kat says.

"Quinn's not here to see me," Rachel tells her. "And I'm only fifty percent of the reason you're here today."

"I'd say sixty percent, personally," Kat replies.

This earns her an eye roll from Rachel. "It's too late to brown nose."

"Hey Kat."

"Kat," a smirking Santana says.

"Hi Quinn. Santana."

"Where's Aly?" Quinn asks.

"She won't be over for another hour or so," Rachel replies. "We figured it'd arouse less suspicion that way."

"Then shouldn't Kat have waited until after?" Santana asks.

Kat shakes her head. "I told my mom it'd be easier if I was out of the house and distracted."

"You're going to make an excellent trouble maker one day," Santana says.

"Thanks I guess."

**…**

When Alyson shows up an hour later, Santana and Quinn are teasing Rachel about being a softie because she invited Kat to spend the night as well.

"Only you two would see this gesture as a bad thing," Rachel snarks.

Deciding to stay out of it, Alyson joins Quinn on the couch, greeting her with a brief kiss.

"It's just that you're such a pushover sometimes, Rach," Quinn says. "I bet all Kat had to do was pout and you caved."

"Or she's trying to subconsciously right her own wronged childhood filled with abandonment and loneliness," Kat throws out.

Santana and Quinn stare at Kat. Quinn then turns to Alyson with a questioning look, only to find her girlfriend grinning.

"I always say that Kat should major in psychology," Alyson smirks. "She's the smart one."

Santana is staring at Rachel in surprise.

"What?" Rachel says. "Kat and I are friends. We talk."

"Just let it go, Q," Santana says, cutting off Quinn.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Quinn pouts.

"Whatever you say blondie."

Quinn looks around the room. "Britt's never around when you need her."

"To balance out the hair color in the room?" Alyson asks, smirking.

"Exactly."

"You're weirder than I thought, Q."

**…**

Brittany shows up almost an hour later with Marisa in tow causing Santana and Alyson to spend the next fifteen minutes mocking and teasing Quinn about being blonde.

"Are they just lashing out because they're insecure that they're not blonde?" Brittany stage whispers to Kat.

"You missed earlier when Quinn realized there was a hair color imbalance," Kat tells her.

"So the fact that I was considering dying my hair is a bad thing?"

"Depends on what color you pick, I guess."

"I was thinking purple steaks, since everyone loves purple," Brittany answers.

"I wish I had popcorn," Rachel says, watching Quinn snap at Santana and Alyson.

"You don't eat popcorn," Marisa tells her.

"You are correct," Rachel replies. "However, I feel like this situation needs _some_thing."

"MST3K like commentary," Marisa says.

"Oooh, that does sound like fun," Brittany says.

**…**

Brittany's very disappointed when the mocking stops after another few minutes.

"I wanted to do commentary," she pouts.

"Santana and Quinn seem to argue a lot," Marisa tells her. "I'm sure you'll get another chance."

They end up in front of the TV, not really paying attention. Instead, they talk and catch up. But then Santana starts mocking Quinn again, only this time Alyson takes Quinn's side and Rachel is forced to separate them. Of course, when Rachel and Santana return from the kitchen, Brittany then begins teasing Santana, which Santana grudgingly puts up with because it's Brittany, which causes Quinn to mock Santana about being doubly whipped, which causes Santana to get into Quinn's face again.

Kat is literally rolling on the floor laughing through the whole thing. She knew Rachel and her friends were odd, but she never imagined they'd be this entertaining.

"It's like a reality show happening in front of me," she whispers to Marisa.

"They are pretty ridiculous, aren't they," Marisa smiles.

**…**

Things settle down once Rachel makes a decree of what is and isn't appropriate to discuss. They manage to survive several more hours in peace that way.

Quinn grabs a ride home with Brittany and Marisa. Kat is going to spend the night in the guest room with Alyson and Quinn isn't comfortable sleeping there as well. Plus, her mom is most likely expecting her.

So Rachel takes Kat upstairs and makes sure she's settled as Alyson walks Quinn to the car.

Rachel has just given Kat an extra blanket when her cell rings.

"Hey lil sis, it's Felix."

"Hello Felix, how are things?"

"Good. Good. I hope that sister of mine isn't giving you too hard of time."

"No more than usual. What's up?"

"You want to have breakfast tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that'll be fun. Where?"

"I figured I'd pick something up," he says. "There's this vegan friendly bakery I just found and I thought I'd bring some bagels by. We can try them out together."

"All right," Rachel replies. "I'll have the coffee ready. I'll be up at my usual time, so just stop by whenever."

"You still get up at six a.m. during winter break?"

"Keeping my routine is important."

"Fair enough," he says. "Who am I to question perfection?"

"Thank you for finally realizing that," Rachel tells him, chuckling. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye Rachel."

**…**

"I suppose you'll be up before the sun again tomorrow?" Santana asks, standing at the front door with Rachel.

Since her parents have been so easy going about her spending the night at Rachel's on a regular basis, Santana plans to sleep at home most of the week. She hates it, but Rachel seems to think it's a good idea. Santana would be more upset if she disagreed with her girlfriend, but they both agree that the guarantee of every Saturday night is too good to pass up. They still have half their senior year left to get through; they don't want to lose that.

"Deviating from my routine, especially in our final year of high school, seems ill advised. Why mess with perfection?"

Santana kisses Rachel softly before saying, "May your self esteem never waver about your awesomeness, babe."

"You won't let it," Rachel replies. "Oh. I'm having breakfast with your brother tomorrow."

Santana shakes her head, but doesn't say anything.

"Thanks," Rachel says.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too."

**…**

Rachel is making coffee when Felix arrives.

"I bought bagels," he tells her. "And Facon." He shrugs. "I was craving bacon."

Rachel just hands him a frying pan before accepting the bag of bagels.

Eventually they sit down to bagels, facon and coffee. They eat slowly, catching each other up on the past few months. Rachel marvels at how well she and Felix get along; he feels like the older brother she always dreamed of having. Felix calling her lil sis all the time, helps too. Rachel wonders what it is about herself that made both Lopez kids want to give her a nickname.

**…**

Once Felix leaves for work, Kat and Alyson come down the stairs looking for breakfast. They wave off Rachel's offer to make them breakfast and just have cereal. Rachel lets them be and have alone time.

An hour later Rachel watches Alyson and Kat say good bye before Rachel drives Kat home. Rachel watches Kat run into the house and pulls out of the driveway, waving to Mrs. Tyler.

When she arrives at home, Santana is in the kitchen pouring herself some coffee.

"Dropped lil sis off?"

Rachel nods. "You bring Quinn with again?"

"Of course. They're upstairs."

"Oh. Okay. Couch?"

**…**

A couple hours later, Rachel is lounging with Santana on the couch when Noah bursts into the house.

"Did I forget to lock that behind me?" Santana asks, looking annoyed.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Rachel replies.

"Whatever," Noah says. "You guys are going to love this idea."

"Whenever you say shit like that, it's cause to worry," Santana says.

"What's your idea, Noah?" Rachel asks.

"I figured out what the project for the week should be," he exclaims.

"Goody," Santana mutters.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"Movie marathon," he replies. "And not just any marathon. We're going to get a projector and set it up in your basement. It'll be awesome."

"We don't have a screen," Rachel points out.

"We can use a sheet," he tells her.

"Where are you going to get all the equipment?" Santana asks.

Noah shrugs. "Gonna go talk to Artie. He was the expert the last time we did this."

"We don't have access to the school equipment at the moment, Noah," Rachel says.

"We'll figure it out," he assures them. "Where's your enthusiasm?"

"It's trying to figure out what's going on in that brain of yours," Santana retorts.

"You should," Noah replies. "It's awesome."

"Pass."

"So what's your plan, Noah?" Rachel asks.

"Talk to Artie first," he replies. "And then hopefully we can start bringing stuff here to set up."

"Fine," Rachel huffs.

"Ah, don't be like that, bro," he tells her. "It'll be fun. I mean, you already got Q and Al here anyway. It'll be awesome."

"I already said yes," Rachel replies.

"Awesome. I'll be back." And then he's gone before either of them can reply.

"He's way more motivated than I've ever seen him," Santana says.

"Maybe it's a sign of things to come."

"Your belief in him is admirable, babe."

**…**

Puck is back sooner than either of them expected.

"Hey guys," he says walking in the front door and heading immediately downstairs.

A few minutes later he reappears. "Bye guys."

**…**

The next time Puck shows up, Rachel and Santana are in the kitchen being, as he calls it, ridiculously domestic.

"How is making lunch domestic?" Rachel asks.

Puck laughs. "Have you two ever watched yourselves together?"

"I don't believe that's possible to do," Rachel replies.

"There's a reason I call you two an old married couple," Quinn says, appearing besides Puck.

"See, Q agrees," Puck says.

"Whatever Puck," Santana says. "Your little project working out?"

"Getting there," Puck nods.

"Little project?" Alyson asks.

"Gotta go," Puck replies. "Have my bro explain it to you Al." And then he's out the door.

"I told you not to call me that!" Alyson calls after him.

"What ridiculousness has he got up his sleeve today?" Quinn asks.

"Apparently we're having a movie night tonight," Rachel replies. "With a big screen. Downstairs."

"Seriously?"

Rachel just shrugs.

**…**

Puck shows up a couple hours later with Artie, a lot of cables, a white sheet and pizza.

"So movie night is a go?" Santana questions as she takes the pizza boxes from them.

"Oh yeah," Puck replies. "Artie came through like gangbusters."

"I just know who you need to ask for things," Artie adds.

"How many people did you invite?" Rachel asks, joining them and taking in the number of pizza boxes.

"Just the usual," Puck tells them. "Britt, Mike, their girls, Tina, and I told Al to call her brother if she wanted."

"She hates it when you call her that," Rachel says.

"I know," Puck grins.

"Do you _want_ Quinn to kick you in the nuts?" Santana asks.

"She wouldn't. Would she?"

"Alyson might," Rachel says.

"Well I gotta get my fun somewhere."

"What do you call all this?" Artie asks.

"A project."

"The more time I spend with you," Artie says. "The less I understand you."

**…**

"So what movie are we watching?" Rachel asks Puck. "You wouldn't have come up with this idea if you didn't have a movie in mind."

"Well I did say marathon, didn't I?"

"If you're going to try and make me watch all the Freddy movies again, you can just go home now."

"Luckily, I had another franchise in mind," Puck replies. "But since it's not just me, I brought a few choices. I figure we can vote when everyone gets here."

"What are the choices?"

"Well, I wanted horror," Puck says. "But I picked the _Scream_ movies because at least it's smart horror. Artie's in charge of the other choice, since he did most of the work."

Rachel looks around the room and sees Artie double checking cables.

"Do you know what he picked?"

"_Back to the Future_."

Rachel nods. "The third one isn't that great."

"Neither is the third _Scream_ movie. But what are you going to do?"

**…**

They end up watching _Scream_, though the voting is close, seven to six. However, they only make it through the first two before everyone has to go home.

"Tomorrow night is part two," Puck announces.

"Hey moron," Quinn calls out. "Did you ask Berry if that was okay?"

"No," he replies. "But I'm sure it is. Right bro?"

"It's fine, Noah."

"See."

Rachel stands. "Same time tomorrow guys?"

Everyone begins grabbing their things to go home. Rachel starts turning everything off.

"Hey Rachel."

"Oh, hi Wendy."

"Thanks for inviting me."

"Technically, Noah invited you," Rachel says. "But I'm glad you could come."

"I think I owe you an apology," Wendy continues. "I do know the meaning of the word no. I'm not sure that Missy does, though."

"As long as you're not using Mike, it's fine," Rachel says.

"I'm not. I swear."

"Then I consider it a fresh start between us."

"Cool."

"Will I be seeing you tomorrow?" Rachel asks.

"No. I already made plans with Missy and a couple other Cheerios. I'll never hear the end of it if I bail."

"I understand," Rachel says.

"I better go, but thanks," Wendy says.

"You're welcome."

**…**

"You staying tonight?" Rachel asks Santana.

She shakes her head. "Tomorrow night, though."

"You mean movie night part two?"

"I was just impressed that he didn't make you do all the work," Santana says.

"I bet he made Artie do all the work, instead," Rachel replies.

"Better him than you."

"Though Noah has become a lot more responsible lately," Rachel says.

"I'm just glad he stopped saying senior year baby and then doing that annoying fist pump."

"Agreed."

**…**

Everyone is back Wednesday night, settled in the same places.

"Hey Rach," Artie says. "Before we started the movie, I had a question."

"Okay."

"Well, it's not just for you," Artie continues. "It's for everyone, but mainly you."

"Okay," Rachel replies, sounding worried.

"Just ask already," Santana growls.

"Well since you're the prankster, do you think we could all pull a prank together? I mean the castle thing was awesome, but I think we could do something even crazier."

His statement is met with silence. Artie swears he hears crickets chirping.

"Brittany that isn't helping," Rachel scolds the blonde.

"Sorry Rach," Brittany says, putting her phone away. "But I thought the crickets would add to the atmosphere."

"You have crickets with you?" Tina asks, because it's not completely improbable.

"No, phone app."

"Oh."

"Wait a minute, _Berry_ is the prankster?" Quinn exclaims.

Santana glowers at Artie who looks embarrassed.

"I thought everyone here knew," he says. "I mean, if Marisa knows, how does Quinn not?"

"Because she figured it out," Rachel says.

"What? How?"

"I got warnings," Marisa says.

Everyone nods since that's the main reason that Rachel's been under suspicion for months.

"And yet Quinn didn't figure it out," Puck mocks.

"Shut up, _Puck_," Quinn snaps. "I just figured Berry was making Santana warn us." She looks around the room. "_Everyone_here knows?"

"I didn't," Alyson says.

"Don't try to be funny."

Alyson just shrugs.

"What's the prankster?" Lindsey asks.

"Apparently _Berry_ here has been pulling pranks at school for _months_," Quinn explains.

"It started off simple, like locking all of us out of the school," Brittany continues. "But then it became more complicate like catapults and fireworks."

"Seriously?" Josh exclaims. He grins at Rachel. "You're way more awesome than Kat thinks."

Rachel smirks. "Thanks."

"How long have you been doing this?" Lindsey asks.

"Um, over a year I guess," Rachel answers.

"How is it that you haven't been caught?"

"People are dumb," Brittany says.

"The administration hasn't responded properly," Rachel answers. "If they had better security-"

"Or any security," Santana interjects.

"Then maybe they'd be able to stop me."

"No way," Puck says. "My bro here is an ace planner. No one's gonna out smart her."

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel says. "But I wouldn't go that far."

"You're pretty awesome at it, though, Rach," Marisa says.

"Yeah," Puck says. "I mean, you've done like dozens."

"Um…"

"Oh don't even pretend you don't know the exact number, babe," Santana says.

Rachel elbows Santana and says, "Fifty-one."

This declaration is met with more silence.

"Holy fucking Christ, bro," Puck exclaims. "Has it really been that many?"

"According to my calculations," Rachel answers.

"And you still haven't been caught?" Lindsey asks.

Rachel just shrugs.

"We've been going to the wrong schools," Lindsey tells Josh, who just chuckles.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says. "But can we get back to the topic of _Berry_ being the prankster and not Santana."

"Why do you keep saying my name like that, Quinn?" Rachel asks.

"Because I feel like a damn idiot, that's why."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything," Rachel says. "I assumed you already knew and just enjoyed giving Santana a hard time."

"I don't see how you could think it was anyone, but Rachel after she built the Halifax Gibbet," Mike says.

"Yeah that was definitely a big clue," Artie asks.

"Guys," Brittany whispers loudly. "I don't think that's helping."

"I just need a minute," Quinn says. "And maybe a drink."

Puck hands her a beer.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Uh, so back to my question, Rachel," Artie says, nervously.

"That depends on everyone else, doesn't it?"

"So you'd be up to it?"

"Do you have an idea you want to try?" Rachel asks.

"Um, well, no, not exactly," Artie replies. "I have some real basic ideas, but they're not fleshed out quite."

Rachel sighs and looks at Santana, silently asking her opinion.

"It's your call, boss," Santana says. "I mean, this craziness is definitely your baby, not mine."

Rachel sighs again, louder. "All right. Show of hands. Who wants to pull a group prank?"

Puck and Artie's hands shoot up. Brittany is next and she elbows Marisa who reluctantly does as well. Mike and Tina are tentative when they raise their hands and Quinn seems to still be processing.

"All right then," Rachel says. "A group prank it is."

"Excellent," Artie says. "When?"

"Not for a bit," Rachel replies. "I have an idea that needs _a lot_ of people, but I need to figure out the details."

"More than the castle?" Santana asks.

"And the pond?" Brittany asks.

"Or the fireworks?" Puck throws out.

"What about turning the steps into slides?" Tina asks.

"Or the overly waxed floor?" Mike adds.

Josh lets out an impressed whistle.

"Yes, more than those," Rachel replies, exasperated.

"Then we are all so in," Puck says.

"Who elected you the voice of the group?" Quinn asks.

"Does this mean you're in too, Q?"

"Yeah, it does."

Puck actually jumps up and begins dancing around.

"Who let him get drunk?" Santana snarks.

"This is pure joy, Lopez," Puck replies, after sticking out his tongue. "You know Rach is gonna come through with something awesome."

"Yeah, I do," Santana says. "But that doesn't mean you need to dance about it."

"Can we just watch the movie?" Rachel asks. "When I get it figured out, we'll talk. Okay?"

Everyone nods as Artie hits play on the DVD player.

**…**

"Listen, Rach," Artie says as they're shutting everything down after the movie. "I'm sorry about telling Quinn. I really thought she already knew."

"It's fine, Artie. I wasn't completely sure myself. It's probably best to have it out there, right?"

"Except now the arguments about who the prankster are at the glee table are going to be ridiculous," Santana comments from the corner where she's still lounging.

"Yes, that was my first concern," Rachel retorts.

"Just things to consider, babe."

"You're sure?" Artie asks.

"Really, Artie. It's fine."

"Cool. Then you and I should pull something. Just the two of us."

"Um, well-"

"No it's cool," Artie continues. "I'll figure it all out and then I'll check in with you to make sure the details work. I mean, you are the expert."

"All right, I guess."

"We'll talk more after I figure it out. Right?"

Rachel nods.

"Awesome." He turns to Mike and Puck. "You guys ready?"

They both nod and pick Artie and his chair up, carrying him upstairs.

"You're too nice sometimes, babe."

"Hey, if he does all the work, I don't see the problem."

"I was talking more about the group prank," Santana clarifies as Rachel joins her on the couch.

"It'll be fun."

"That's not the first word, I'd use, but okay."

"I wasn't lying before, San," Rachel says. "There is something I want to do, but I've been hesitant about because it's a decent amount of work."

"Good bonding experience, I guess."

"Who knows if it'll even happen," Rachel says. "After all, I might not be able to figure it out."

"Ha! As if," Santana replies. "You probably have it all figured out, except for logistics. And now adding more people to the mix will make it easier is all."

"Am I that transparent?"

"I'd like to think I know you pretty well," Santana replies.

"You really think it's a bad idea?"

"I guess it depends what it is."

Rachel nods, standing. "Bed?"

"As long as we aren't sleeping," Santana replies, standing as well.

"I thought you knew me well, San," Rachel smirks.

"Race you upstairs, then."

**…**

It's a lazy Thursday as Rachel, Santana, Quinn, and Alyson lounge in front of the TV. When Rachel's cell phone starts ringing, Santana groans. She snatches it off the coffee table and hands it to her girlfriend.

"If it's Puck and he wants to do something epic, tell him to shove it," she says.

Chuckling, Rachel answers her phone.

"Rach, hey I figured out what we're doing tomorrow," Puck says.

"Good."

"Except, do you know any drummers?"

"Besides Finn?" Rachel questions.

"Yeah."

"Not off the top of my head. Why?"

"Well, I need a drummer. And I figured you didn't want to spend your Friday night with Finn."

"Well that's true," Rachel agrees. "But he's the only drummer I know."

"Josh drums," Alyson says.

"He does?" Rachel asks.

Alyson nods. "Mostly for band, but he can jam with the best of them."

"Who's Josh?" Puck asks.

"Alyson's brother," Rachel answers. "You've met him. Tuesday, in fact."

"If you say so," Puck says. "Call him up. See what his plans are."

"What are _our_ plans?" Rachel asks. "What am I supposed to tell him?"

"That we're entering an open mic night for bands because I thought it'd be fun."

"You're not serious," Rachel says.

"Course I am, bro," Puck replies. "I play guitar. You sing and play keyboard if you're so inclined and then he can drum. It'll be fun. And I already have a name for our band."

"Do I even want to know?"

"The Unholy Trinity," Puck crows.

"_Noah_," Rachel sighs.

"Ah, c'mon, Rach," Puck says. "It's a great name. I know it has bad connotations for you, but we can reclaim it as something positive and take away its power."

Rachel chuckles. "So you do listen to me when I talk."

"Seems like it."

"All right, I'll see what I can do."

Setting down her cell phone, Rachel turns to Alyson. "I hate to ask this, but do you know if Josh is doing anything tomorrow night?"

Alyson raises an eyebrow. "Why don't we call him and find out?" She pulls out her cell phone and dials his number.

"What the hell does Puck want now?" Santana asks, watching.

"Plans for tomorrow night," Rachel answers. "You know Noah, he wants it to be epic."

"At least he stopped saying, 'senior year, baby' every day," Quinn says.

"That was annoying," Santana agrees. "How did you stop that, babe?"

"Alcohol and a permanent marker," Rachel retorts as Alyson hands her the phone. "Hi Josh, it's Rachel."

"Oh hey, Rachel," Josh replies. "Ready to kick Al out yet?"

"Nah," Rachel replies. "She does the dishes."

"Yeah, she did when we were younger too," he says. "Always trying to make me look bad."

Rachel smiles, chuckling slightly. "I know this is kind of out of the blue, but do you play the drums?"

"I do," Josh responds cautiously.

"And what are you doing tomorrow night?" Rachel asks.

"Lins and I are going to see a movie. Why?"

Not knowing how else to ask, Rachel simply explains the whole situation and finishes with, "And so I was sort of hoping that you'd be our third. And Lindsey is totally welcomed too."

Josh doesn't answer right away and Rachel can't blame him. It's an odd question, especially considering their non relationship.

"It sounds like fun, actually," he says finally. "Let me talk to Lindsey and I'll call you back later."

"Excellent, thanks Josh."

"Bye Rachel."

"He said probably because he has to talk to Lindsey," Alyson says when Rachel hangs up.

Rachel nods.

"Do we even want to know?" Quinn asks.

"Probably not," Santana answers. "After all, it's Puck."

**…**

When Alyson's cell phone rings an hour later, she hands it over to Rachel, seeing Josh's name in the caller ID.

"Hello Alyson's phone, Rachel speaking."

"Hey Rachel, it's Josh."

"So what's the verdict?" Rachel asks.

"I'll be there. Lindsey won't be."

"Oh, well, if she-"

"No, don't worry," Josh interrupts. "Her mom's been bugging her about doing a mother daughter thing and Lindsey figured it'd be easier to just agree than argue."

"I suppose that's true."

"Do I need to bring my own drums?" he asks.

"I really don't know," Rachel replies. "Let me call Noah and I'll get back to you with specifics."

"Awesome," Josh says. "And thanks for inviting me Rachel. I know we're not friends exactly, but since my sisters seem to love you so much, who am I to question your greatness."

"If we both didn't already have girlfriends, I'd think you're flirting with me."

Josh laughs. "Right, careful with the compliments then."

"Sorry, Josh, I'm not used to it is all."

"Yeah, Aly _and_ Kat explained it a bit," Josh replies. "No worries. Let me know about tomorrow. Okay?"

"I will. Thanks Josh."

Ending the call, Rachel hands Alyson back her cell phone with a smile. She then pulls her own phone out and calls Puck.

"Hello Noah. He said yes. So give me all the details."

**…**

When the doorbell rings Friday night, Rachel knows it's Josh. Noah would just knock and come in.

"Hey."

"Hi Josh," Rachel replies. "Thanks for meeting here."

"No biggie," Josh says. "You're right, it'll probably just be easier to go together."

"I hope you don't mind squeezing into Noah's truck since he's the only one who knows where we're going."

"I don't, if you don't."

Rachel doesn't get a chance to answer because Noah begins honking his horn to announce his arrival.

"And then he wonders why we didn't date that long," Rachel mutters, grabbing her coat.

Josh shakes his head in amusement and offers his arm. "Shall we?"

"Thank you, kind sir."

Josh and Rachel stroll outside arm in arm and hop into Noah's truck.

"You guys ready to rock?" Noah exclaims before peeling out of the driveway.

**…**

"You look sick to your stomach," Alyson says.

"So maybe I'm a little nervous," Quinn admits.

"We don't have to do this, if you're not ready, Quinn," Alyson tells her.

"No. It's fine," Quinn says. "I want to do this. It'll be good for me."

"If you're sure…"

"I am. I talked it over with Britt and I think it'll be okay."

"All right," Alyson says. "So you're finally ready to get out of the car?"

They're currently sitting in Alyson's car which is in Quinn's driveway.

Quinn nods. "I'm ready."

**…**

It takes a little over an hour to get to Randy's Bar.

"You ready for this?" Puck asks as they climb out of his truck.

"Too late to back out now," Josh says. "I mean, we're here."

"Hey, if you guys don't want to do this."

"We've never played together Noah," Rachel says. "Or at least, not the three of us. I feel a bit of nervousness is appropriate."

"Right. Makes sense," he replies. "It's not like this is anything serious. Something else to try."

"Does he have some sort of senior year bucket list?" Josh whispers to Rachel.

"Not that I know of," she replies. "But now that you mention it, that does kind of make sense."

Once they're inside, they join the line forming to sign in. Rachel and Josh let Puck handle everything since it was his idea. Rachel quietly explains where Puck's choice of band name came from as they wait.

**…**

"Mom," Quinn says. "This is Alyson. Alyson this is my mom, Judy Fabray."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Fabray."

"You too Alyson."

It's odd for Quinn to be sitting at the dining room table with Alyson and just her mom. The last time she sat at this table she'd been pregnant and Finn had announced it to her parents in song.

She supposes tonight will be filled with similar life changing revelations. She tries not to throw up.

"Hey," Alyson says. "Are you okay? You look…"

"Yes, Quinn," Judy adds. "You don't look so good. Maybe we should postpone this."

"Actually, mom, I'd rather not," Quinn says. "I should just say this and get it over with. And then maybe I can stop worrying all the time about what you're going to think."

"Quinn, dear, you're scaring me," Judy says.

"I'm sorry mom, that wasn't my intention."

"Just promise me you're not pregnant again."

"I swear on a stack of bibles, I'm not pregnant," Quinn says.

Judy lets out a visible sigh of relief.

"I am, however," Quinn continues. "Gay."

"I'm sorry, dear, I'm not quite sure I heard you," Judy says, looking pale. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'm gay," Quinn says louder. "And Alyson is my girlfriend. That's why I wanted you to meet her."

Judy doesn't respond immediately. She takes several drinks of water before saying, "Well that wasn't what I was expecting."

"I'm sorry," Quinn says. "I didn't mean to just spring this on you, but I didn't know how else to tell you."

"No, it's fine, Quinn," Judy replies. "I'm glad you told me. I think. No, I am. I'm glad you told me."

"You are?"

"I am," Judy nods. "I want you to be able to come to me."

"If you guys want a moment," Alyson says, rising out of her chair. "I can go use the bathroom or something."

"Thank you Alyson, that's sweet," Judy says. "But it's fine."

"If you're sure."

"I am." She takes a large gulp of water. "So you're dating my daughter."

Alyson visibly swallows. "I am."

"And you care about her?"

"I love her, Mrs. Fabray."

Apparently not expecting that, Judy can only nod. "And how did you two meet?"

"Um…"

"Rachel Berry introduced us," Quinn says. "She and Mike taught a dance class that Aly's little sister was in."

"And she introduced the two of you?"

"She did," Quinn nods.

"That was nice of her," Judy says. "So do you go to McKinley as well, Alyson?"

"Actually I'm a sophomore at the University of Pittsburgh," Alyson replies. "Soccer scholarship."

"Oh. So you're just in town for the holidays?"

"Unfortunately."

"Wait a moment," Judy says. "Did you say the University of Pittsburgh?"

"I did."

"And Quinn, didn't you drive to Pittsburgh with your friends a few months ago? To see a friend of Rachel's?"

"Um, yes," Quinn replies, meekly.

"I see," Judy says before taking another bite.

**…**

They're the youngest people in the bar. Rachel thought for sure, they'd be at least one other high school band. But all she can see are people in their twenties, late twenties, actually and she suddenly feels a bit foolish. All the other groups look serious and committed while she, Josh and Noah are just doing it for kicks.

"Do you think it's weird that the other groups are so much older than us?" Josh asks her.

"A little. I mean, they look like this is their big break."

"So we're either going to get booed off because we're not serious enough or because it doesn't mean as much to us."

"There's a difference?" Rachel questions.

"Or we say fuck it and have fun," Puck says.

"If you say senior year, baby, so help me, Noah and I will do something drastic."

"All my ideas lately have involved you singing, bro," Puck replies. "I figured you'd be happy."

"You're right," Rachel says. "I guess I'm just nervous."

"You nervous?"

"I like to be prepared," Rachel replies. "And no practice equals not prepared."

"You need to be more spontaneous," Puck says.

"This seems like a good start," Josh says.

**…**

Quinn spends the rest of dinner, fretting about how she's going to answer the question left unasked. She really wishes she was sitting next to Alyson; she feels so far away on the opposite side of the table.

Still her mother and Alyson seem to be getting along. They're having a discussion about wine racks of all things. Apparently Alyson's parents are connoisseurs. She supposes she should just be glad that her mom is getting along with Alyson and didn't freak out.

Quinn supposes she shouldn't be so tough on her mom. She really is trying. Which is more than she's ever done before.

"Well I should be going," Alyson says.

"I suppose you and Quinn have big Friday night plans," Judy says.

"Uh not specifically," Alyson replies. "I mean, we weren't sure if-"

"Nonsense. Go out. Have fun. Just be home by curfew, Quinnie," Judy says. "I mean it. We can talk tomorrow."

"You're sure, mom?"

"I am," Judy replies. "Thank you for introducing us."

"Mom, I-"

"Quinn, honey," Judy interrupts. "It's okay. Really."

"All right," Quinn says. "I'll be home by curfew."

"Have fun dear."

"Nice to have met you, Mrs. Fabray," Alyson says.

"You too, Alyson."

"Thank you for dinner, as well."

"Have fun, girls."

**…**

They're fourth out of nine bands. So they sit in the audience, get a drink and watch. The first group is four women who play what Rachel thinks of as pop punk. The next band is a guy and a girl, playing a haunting ballad on acoustic guitars. The third group is three guys and a girl on bass playing rock.

Then it's their turn. Josh sits at the drums while Noah plugs in his guitar. Rachel adjusts the mic stand and waits for Noah to begin playing.

Noah starts first, _Midnight gettin' uptight Where are you__  
>You said you'd meet me now it's quarter to two<em>_  
>I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you<em>

Then Rachel takes over, _Hey Jack It's a fact they're talkin' in town__  
>I turn my back and you're messin' around<em>_  
>I'm not really jealous don't like lookin' like a clown<em>

I think of you ev'ry night and day

_You took my heart then you took my pride away_

I hate myself for loving you

_Can't break free from the the things that you do__  
>I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why<em>_  
>I hate myself for loving you<em>

Daylight spent the night without you

_But I've been dreamin' 'bout the lovin' you do__  
>I won't be as angry 'bout the hell you put me through<em>

Hey man betcha you can treat me right

_You just don't know what you was missin' last night__  
>I wanna see you beggin', say forget it just for spite<em>_  
>I think of you ev'ry night and day<em>_  
>You took my heart then you took my pride away<em>

I hate myself for loving you

_Can't break free from the the things that you do__  
>I wanna walk but I run back to you, that's why<em>_  
>I hate myself for loving you<em>

I think of you ev'ry night and day

_You took my heart then you took my pride away_

I hate myself for loving you

_Can't break free from the things that you do__  
>I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why<em>_  
>I hate myself for loving you<em>

I think of you ev'ry night and day

_You took my heart then you took my pride away_

I hate myself for loving you

_Can't break free from the the things that you do__  
>I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why<em>_  
>I hate myself for loving you<em>_  
>I hate myself<em>_  
>For loving you<em>_  
>I hate myself<em>_  
>For loving you<em>_  
>I hate myself<em>_  
>For loving you<em>_  
>I hate myself<em>_  
>I hate myself for loving you<em>

The music finishes with a flourish and the three of them bow before jumping off stage.

They find their seats and listen to the last five bands. No one really sticks out except the last group, which is four guys in black jeans and wife beaters who jump around on stage and scream, to music.

They have to wait twenty minutes for the results. Rachel is glad, she makes Noah stop drinking beer and switch to water.

They don't win. Not that they expected to, though Rachel had been hoping for third place. But they only have first place which goes to the acoustic pair. She's okay losing to them because they were definitely the best.

**…**

"So that wasn't so bad," Alyson says as they drive to Rachel's.

"It did go better than expected," Quinn agrees.

"But?"

"She now knows that _I'm_ the reason we all went to Pittsburgh and not Berry."

"Or that _I'm_ the reason, you mean," Alyson counters.

"Either way."

"Are you worried?"

"Always," Quinn replies. "But I think it should be okay."

"Good," Alyson says. "Are you sure you're fine just going back to Rachel's?"

"Neither of us are out," Quinn points out. "It's the best choice."

"Being out at school, but not at home is tough," Alyson says.

"What happens when your parents visit?"

"They don't visit me," Alyson replies. "Well they didn't last year."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Alyson says. "Makes things easier, I figure. Besides, what would we do? Maybe they'd watch one of my games. Then I give them a tour of a campus that they already received a tour of? Followed by an uncomfortable dinner. No thank you."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"I mean they never really came to my games in high school."

"Yeah, mine didn't either," Quinn says.

"Speaking of parents, I've been here for an entire week and I have yet to see Rachel's dads."

"They're never around. Obviously," Quinn replies. "S said they're workaholics."

"Well they must live at the office then," Alyson says. "Because I haven't seen or heard any signs that anyone else lives there."

"You'd have to ask Berry, I guess," Quinn replies. "I hope she and Puck aren't drunk on the couch."

"That doesn't sound like Rachel," Alyson says. "Besides, she, Puck and Josh are pretend to be a band somewhere. Remember?"

"Oh yeah," Quinn says. "I wonder how _that's_ going."

"Why? Is Puck terrible?"

"No," Quinn replies. "But the three of them have never played together."

"True," Alyson says as they park in Rachel's driveway.

The house is dark when they enter.

"Not back yet it seems," Alyson says.

"Movie?"

"Sounds good?"

**…**

"I had fun, even if we didn't win," Josh says as they drive back.

"Thanks for coming," Rachel replies. "I know it's kind of weird."

"Naw," Josh says. "Kat adores you and Aly has nothing but good things to say about you. I sort of feel like we're friends."

"I do too."

"We should play together more often," Puck interjects. "We sounded pretty awesome."

Josh shrugs.

"It does sound like a fun distraction," Rachel agrees. "But I'm not sure I'd have the time."

"Me either," Josh adds, shrugging. "Senior year and all."

"You guys suck," Puck grumbles.

**…**

Alyson's car is the only one in the driveway when Puck pulls up.

"You want to come in and say hi?" Rachel asks Josh as they climb out of the truck.

"Naw," Josh replies. "I mean, she's probably sleeping."

"You're sure?"

Josh nods. "It's a bigger deal for Kat to see her than me. We email and text plenty while she's at school."

"Okay. Thanks for coming with. Too bad we didn't win."

"Well, I wasn't really expecting to," Josh says.

"I wasn't either," Rachel replies. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to."

Josh grins. "Well, if you ever need a drummer, you know where to find me."

"Bye Josh. Say hi to Lindsey. And tell her thanks for lending you to me for the night."

Josh laughs. "I will."

"You staying?" Rachel asks Puck who is now standing behind her.

"Probably not," Puck replies. "I mean you've already picked out another bro."

"Don't be ridiculous Noah."

"Well, you're awful chummy with him."

"He's Alyson and Kat's brother," Rachel replies.

"Hmph."

"Well if you're not staying, then I guess I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Yeah."

"I had a good time tonight, Noah," Rachel says. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Rach."

**…**

When Quinn enters the kitchen Saturday morning, she's surprised to find her mom sitting at the table. "Morning mom," she says as she gets herself a cup of coffee.

"How was the rest of your night, honey?"

"It was fine." Quinn sits at the table across from her mom.

"Where did you end up going?"

"Oh, um, well…" Quinn doesn't know if she should bring up the fact that Alyson is staying with Rachel. It just feels so awkward to explain. But she's already come out to her mom, she might as well be completely honest. "She's actually staying at Rachel Berry's. And so we went back there and watched a movie."

"Oh. Why isn't she staying with her family?"

"Well, neither of us is out," Quinn answers. "Well Aly is at school, but not in Lima. So Rachel offered Alyson a place to stay where she and I can hang out and be a couple."

"Oh."

Quinn sips her coffee and waits for her mom to say something. After a few minutes, Quinn asks, "Are you upset?"

"No, I understand why. I just… Alyson seems like a lovely girl."

"I'm glad you think so."

"I really am glad you introduced us," Judy continues. "And that you told me, Quinnie. I don't want there to be any big secrets between us anymore."

"I don't either mom," Quinn agrees.

"So I hate to do it, but I have to ask. When you went up to Pittsburgh with your friends, was that to see Alyson?"

"It was," Quinn nods.

"I see."

"You're mad," Quinn says.

"Not mad. I understand why. But the next time you want to visit Alyson, you have to be upfront with me."

"I plan on it," Quinn replies. "I just wasn't ready before."

"Are you telling other people?"

"Well, my friends know. Some of the glee kids. But I'd rather not."

There's a look of relief on her mom's face that Quinn was expecting, but still doesn't know how quite to respond to.

"Well, it's your decision dear."

"I only have half my senior year left," Quinn says. "I really don't want to have it be this big _thing_."

"That is completely understandable," Judy replies.

**…**

"This is going to suck."

"What makes you say that?" Rachel asks as she drives.

"Because it's at Missy's," Santana answers.

"Just because she and you don't see eye to eye, doesn't mean the party will suck," Quinn replies the back seat.

"She tried to steal my girlfriend," Santana argues.

"There'll be plenty of other people there, tiger," Rachel says. "It'll be fine."

"I don't trust her."

"Well, now that Wendy's dating Mike, I don't think you have anything to worry about," Rachel tells her.

"Or maybe she'll be even more insane," Santana grumbles. "You don't know. Wendy could have been the stabilizing force in the relationship."

"Stabilizing force? Seriously?" Quinn asks.

"Wait a minute," Alyson interrupts. "_Wendy_ is one of the cheerleaders that went after Rach?"

"Unfortunately," Rachel answers.

"You must be the most forgiving person on the fucking planet," Alyson says, shaking her head.

"I don't see what there is to forgive," Rachel says. "I mean, sure, they didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word no, but how can I be upset that they find me attractive."

"I _knew_ it," Santana crows.

"Oh like it's that shocking that Berry liked the attention," Quinn scoffs.

"Keep it up Quinn and you can be the designated driver this evening," Rachel says.

**…**

The party is in full swing when they arrive. Apparently, McKinley high students can't bear to be separated for too long.

"It's New Year's babe," Santana replies. "What else are they going to do in Lima?"

Rachel just grabs Santana's hand and lets herself be lead into the kitchen. There Santana mixes herself a drink and finds a bottle of water for Rachel.

"Bro," Puck says, joining them at the counter. "Lopez."

"Hello Noah."

"Puck."

"I'm surprised you're here," he says. "I thought you'd refuse as some sort of protest."

"Like I'm going to cower in the corner because Missy fucking Watters," Santana snaps.

"And she's lost her partner in crime," Rachel points out.

"I spose you're DDing, huh, bro?"

Rachel nods.

"Too bad. I was hoping we could get epically drunk together"

"Isn't that what bro nights are for?"

"Well something needs to happen or this party is going to be dull," Puck grumbles.

**…**

"We should have just spent the night at Berry's," Quinn says as they push through the party.

Alyson doesn't respond, just tugs Quinn in the direction of the back yard. After a brief scan of the yard, she pulls Quinn into the far corner and the darkness. Using her cell as a light, she finds the perfect spot, tosses the empty beer box she brought with on the ground and sits. She tugs Quinn down to join her.

"It's like the first time we met," Alyson says when Quinn resists slightly.

Quinn sighs and sinks to the ground next to Alyson. She leans into her and Alyson wraps an arm around Quinn pulling her closer.

"We can get a ride back to Rachel's, if you really want," Alyson says. "I'm sure we could find someone willing."

"We're already here," Quinn replies. "And Santana would give me so much shit for leaving."

"So? You guys give each other shit over the dumbest things."

"_Hey_," Quinn exclaims. "And I know. That's just how it is."

"All right. Then we'll just hang out here. It'll be cozy."

"And cold," Quinn points out.

"That's what the alcohol is for," Alyson tells her.

**…**

Seeing Wendy alone for a moment, Santana grabs her arm and pulls her into a corner.

"Uh, hey, Santana," Wendy says. "What's, uh, up?"

"Where's the crafty BF of yours?"

"Missy? I don't know. Drinking somewhere, I guess."

"She better not go after Rach," Santana growls.

"She hasn't said anything to me," Wendy defends.

"What is her obsession with _my_ girlfriend?"

"I don't know. Really."

"You see her, you tell her to back off," Santana orders.

"Of course. Anything you say, Santana."

"Good. As you were."

**…**

"You sure you don't want to be inside, partying?" Quinn asks.

"Are you?" Alyson counters. "These are your friends, or whatever you want to call them."

"I'm sorry I can't hold your hand in there."

"Are you apologizing for not being out? To me?"

"Well, I guess."

"Coming out right now is not an option."

"I've heard stories," Quinn says. "I know what your dad would do."

"I just can't do that to Kat. Josh would survive. After all, he's almost out of there. But Kat… I can't leave her alone in that house."

"She will be next year," Quinn points out.

"Yeah, but as long as Josh and I are still welcomed in the house, it'll be okay."

Quinn sighs. "Family is messy."

**…**

"I suppose this is my fault for using the bathroom at your house," Rachel says, wryly.

Missy smirks, nodding slightly.

Rachel crosses her arms, leans against the sink and waits.

Instead of lunging forward, like Rachel expects, Missy lets her eyes roam up and down Rachel's figure, spending a large amount of time on her breasts.

Rachel tries not to flinch under her intrusive gaze.

"How is it that you look so damn good in jeans?" Wendy asks finally.

Rachel had purposely chosen jeans and a flannel in hopes of avoiding this very situation. Santana had looked at her oddly, but had nodded her approval at the explanation.

"May I please leave now that you've visually violated me?"

"One more minute?"

"You should really find another hobby," Rachel says. "After all, I graduate this year. And then who will you have to stalk?"

"There's always Britt's new girl," Missy smirks.

"Don't even think about it."

"She obviously has a thing for blonde Cheerios," Missy continues.

Rachel takes a step forward into Missy's personal space. "If you do _anything_ to Marisa, I will make your life so miserable that you'll have to transfer to Jane Adams Academy."

"Oooh, a challenge," Missy grins.

"Take it however you want," Rachel says. "But it's the truth." She then pushes past Missy and exits the bathroom.

**…**

"Hey Rachel."

"Oh hi Mike," Rachel says, looking up.

"Do I want to know why you're hiding?"

"Is sitting on the top of the stairs really hiding?"

"When we're all supposed to stay downstairs it is," Mike replies.

"Oh please, you know there are people doing _things_ up here," Rachel retorts.

"So why are you hiding?"

"Missy Watters," Rachel sighs.

"I think she enjoys torturing you," Mike says.

"Sexually?"

"Um…"

"I mean, why does she keep hitting on me?"

"That's what I mean," Mike replies. "She enjoys your reaction."

"Well that really sucks," Rachel says. "Because ignoring it is so much more difficult than normal bullying."

"Want me to talk to Wendy?"

"No. That's not fair to either of you guys."

"Fair isn't a word I'd used to describe our high school experience," Mike says.

Rachel laughs. "Still. You don't have to."

"What about Santana?"

"I'd really rather not bring her into it," Rachel says. "I mean, I'll tell her. But…"

"Well if you change your mind."

"Thanks Mike."

**…**

Puck's surprised by the lack of drama. He thought for sure, something would happen. They always do. Maybe after so much time away from each other, it takes longer for the drama to build. He's not complaining. He's glad to experience an entire party without some sort of inane crisis.

Grabbing another beer, he wonders if he can catch a ride home with Rachel. Looking around, he doesn't see her. He'll have to keep his eyes open then.

**…**

Sunday morning, Rachel lets herself sleep in. She knows the other three occupants of the house probably wouldn't appreciate her early morning workout, so when she wakes up with the sun, Rachel simply snuggles further into Santana and closes her eyes, letting herself drift back to sleep.

**…**

"I'm really going to miss you," Quinn says.

"Me too. But we'll figure out a good time for another visit, soon, right?"

"Yeah," Quinn says. "Maybe now that mom knows, she'll let me drive up by myself."

"You don't think Rachel and them would agree to go again?"

"Oh, I know Berry would," Quinn replies. "And she'd make Santana come with. It's just this huge hassle."

"I guess that's true."

"Call me when you get back?" Quinn asks.

"Of course." Alyson pulls Quinn in for a kiss. "I love you. Thanks for an amazing week."

"I could say the same to you," Quinn replies. "And I love you too."

Alyson's grin at Quinn's words is so sweet that Quinn has to kiss her again.

"I wish-"

"I know. But I'll call you tonight, okay?"

Quinn nods.

Alyson gives her one last kiss, grabs her stuff and hustles out the door.

**…**

Both Rachel and Santana look up when someone knocks on Rachel's bedroom door.

"Come in," Rachel calls out.

The door doesn't open. "It's Quinn. You're decent, right?"

"Would we have told you to come in if we weren't?" Santana replies.

The door swings open slowly. "Good point."

"Alyson's gone?" Rachel asks.

Quinn nods and slumps on the bed next to Santana who's trying to read _The Sound and the Fury_.

"We can figure out another time to visit her," Rachel says.

"I'm hoping my mom will be okay with just me going," Quinn says.

"Now that sounds like an interesting conversation," Santana chuckles.

**…**

"Mom's going to be glad to see you," Santana says as they drive to her house for Sunday night dinner. "I think she was more upset than me that she didn't see you last weekend."

"She just worries about me being lonely," Rachel replies.

"Felix will be glad to see you too, I'm sure."

"When does he head back to school?"

"Tomorrow morning," Santana replies. "He likes to wait until the last possible minute. So he plans to be back right before his first class tomorrow."

"That seems risky."

"I think he just wants one more home cooked meal before he heads back."

"He's really perfected that college stereo type hasn't he?" Rachel muses.

**…**

"This looks delicious," Emma says as she sits down.

Jack pushes her chair closer to the table and sits in his own across from her.

"Thanks, though it's just linguine," he replies.

They're having dinner at Jack's apartment. Emma's surprised that she's not nervous. Jack has been nothing but patient and sweet and Emma's never felt pressured.

They eat and chat, the conversation meandering.

Even though Emma is enjoying herself, she's still a bit sad. When school resumes, Tuesday, Jack won't be there. Mrs. Matthews is back from maternity leave and so Jack is filling in at the middle school. Emma's going to miss seeing him around, having lunch together.

"What's wrong?" Jack asks.

"I've been spoiled," Emma replies. "I'm used to having you at McKinley and now that you're not going to be, I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss having lunch with you too," Jack smiles.

**…**

"Back to the grindstone," Santana says getting into Rachel's car Tuesday morning.

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "But only a few more months and then we're free of McKinley."

"_That_ is definitely something to look forward to," Santana says. "To school, driver."

"Don't even, Miss Daisy."

"Love you too, babe."


	40. Worrisome to Watch

Okay, so I was going to wait to post until I'd finished this damn series, but I'm stuck and then I started a Bechloe/Faberry cross, so I thought I'd at least put up what I have and hope it motivates me to finish. Thanks again for the patience, if you're still reading this.

**Title:** Worrisome to Watch  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Quinn, Brittany/Marisa, Mike/Wendy, Sue  
><strong>Rating:<strong> light R for language  
><strong>Summary:<strong> This time when Santana participates in a Chess Boxing Tournament, she has more of a familiar audience.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~6,450  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> specific references to **It Went Swimmingly** and **That Went Well**  
><strong>AN:** For the anon who requested more chess boxing way back in chapter 30.  
><strong><br>**

* * *

><p>"Lopez, whatever you're doing Friday night has changed."<p>

"It has?"

"Yep," Puck nods. "You're entering another chess boxing match."

"I am?"

Puck nods again. "Hell yeah, bad ass."

"Fine, but Rach said she wanted to come with the next time."

"Really?"

Santana nods.

"Cool. The more, the merrier," Puck replies. "I figured miss non violence wouldn't approve."

Santana shrugs. "You'll have to ask her."

"All right. Later, Lopez."

**…**

"You talk to Puck today?" Santana asks Rachel when she finds her between second and third.

"No," Rachel replies. "But I did get a text from him that said you were looking for me. Which I found odd."

"Figures," Santana grumbles. "Well I do need to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"You remember last year when I won a chess boxing match?"

"You mean when you let Quinn think I _beat _you?" Rachel asks.

"Right. That. Uh, well _before_that, you said that if I ever went again, you'd want to come."

"I did," Rachel nods.

"Well Puck says there's one on Friday and that we're going. You in?"

"Absolutely."

"Cool," Santana says. "See you at lunch?"

Rachel nods, kisses Santana lightly and skips off to her next class.

**…**

"Rachy says you're boxing again this weekend," Brittany says as she sits next to Santana at lunch.

Santana nods.

"Can I come? And maybe Marisa?"

"_Marisa _wants to come?"

Brittany shrugs. "But if she wants to, I want her to have the option."

"You want who to have what option?" Quinn asks, sitting across from Brittany.

"Hi Quinn. Want to come cheer on Santana this weekend?"

"For what?"

"Chess boxing."

"Didn't you do one of those last year?" Quinn asks.

"I did," Santana nods.

"Sounds interesting," Quinn says. "I'm in."

"Wait a minute," Santana interjects. "I never said I wanted an entourage."

"You deserve one," Brittany says.

"Deserve what?" Mike asks, sitting next to Quinn.

"An entourage," Quinn answers.

"Because she's going to kick ass this weekend at chess boxing."

"Seriously?" Mike exclaims. "That sounds awesome. Count me in."

"What? No," Santana says.

"Why not?" Mike asks.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "Don't you want our support?" she asks, pouting.

"Not fair, B," Santana tells her. "No pouting."

"But it gets me what I want," Brittany protests.

"Personally, I think it'd be fun," Rachel says, sitting on Santana's other side.

"You do?"

Rachel nods. "Noah said you were pretty awesome last time. Everyone should get to see."

"I don't know."

Rachel wraps her hands around Santana's arm and leans in, blinking pleadingly, "Please, tiger?"

Santana sighs as she closes her eyes. It's so not fair that her best friend and her girlfriend are using pouting to get their way. How is she supposed to resist that?

"Fine. But if this turns into some sort of weird glee excursion-"

"It won't," Rachel assures her.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "We're done talking about it. Right guys?"

Mike nods.

"Whatever," Quinn says.

"All right then. I guess you guys can be my entourage," Santana tells them.

"Yay," Brittany exclaims quietly.

**…**

Thursday morning, Rachel has only taken one step inside McKinley when Becky is at her side.

"Good morning, Becky," Rachel greets. "Are you here for you or Coach Sylvester?"

"She wants to see you," Becky replies. "Said I should grab you the minute you step foot inside."

"Mission accomplished," Rachel says. "Lead the way, then."

Becky nods and they walk the rest of the way without talking. When they reach Coach Sylvester's office, Becky knocks twice and then opens it. She beckons Rachel to follow her. Rachel does and takes a seat as she waits for Coach Sylvester to acknowledge her.

"Berry," Coach Sylvester says, looking up from her journal. "I wanted to talk to you about your girl."

"All right."

"I overheard Britt and Q talking about Lopez boxing again this weekend."

"Okay."

"We're not going to have a repeat of last time, are we?"

"I hope not," Rachel replies.

"Because I don't need that kind of drama right now," Coach Sylvester continues.

"Well, it's sort of become a group excursion," Rachel explains. "Me, Britt, Quinn, Mike. We're all going with to cheer San on. So there shouldn't be any confusion about where her injuries are from."

"You're really all going just to watch Lopez box?"

"It's not just boxing," Rachel says. "Did San ever explain it?"

"She did not."

"Well, apparently it's actually chess and boxing. You play chess than you box. Then repeat until there's a winner on the chess board or in the ring."

"You don't say."

"Uh huh," Rachel replies. "Apparently last year, she beat three different guys to win."

"I knew there was a reason I liked her," Coach Sylvester nods. "Do you know where it's at?"

"No," Rachel says. "Apparently it's kind of an underground thing. Noah's the only one that knows where it's at."

"All right. Well, as long as there won't be any issues next week."

"Not related to that," Rachel replies.

"You're free to go then, Berry."

Rachel stands, bows slightly with a smirk on her face and exits.

**…**

"Becky," Coach Sylvester says once Rachel has exited the office. "I need you to find out as much information about this chess boxing thing that's happening this weekend."

"Of course, Coach."

"Good. Good. Preferably by lunch tomorrow."

"Okay, Coach."

**…**

Friday night, everyone meets at Rachel's. Since there are eight of them, they're taking two vehicles, Puck's and Mike's. Rachel, Santana and Puck squeeze into his truck, while Mike follows with Wendy, Quinn, Brittany and Marisa.

"This is the weirdest field trip ever," Quinn grumbles from the backseat.

"You're just mad you have to sit in the back," Brittany says, next to her.

"Because I'm always in the backseat."

"At least no one's sitting on your lap," Marisa says.

"You can sit up front if you really want, Quinn," Wendy says.

"No she can't," Mike says.

"What? Why not?"

"My car," Mike replies. "I get to say who sits where."

"Jeez, you're worse than Berry," Quinn tells him.

"Thanks," Mike smirks.

**…**

Meanwhile, in the truck, each of the three occupants are doing their best to distract themselves from their nervousness. Santana is nervous for obvious reasons. Rachel is nervous for Santana; because she wants her to win, but knows seeing her hurt will be difficult. While Puck is worried that the entire outing will end badly; he's not worried about Santana, because he's confident that she'll win.

Each is dealing with it in their own way. Puck has turned up the music as loud as Rachel will allow and the two of them are singing along. Because singing always seems to help Rachel relax. Santana, on the other hand, has her hand intertwined with Rachel's and has no intention of letting go until she has to.

This is how the three of them spend the seventy-five minute drive.

**…**

When Puck pulls up and parks next to an abandoned warehouse, no one wants to get out of Mike's car.

"Trust Puckerman to take us to the set of a horror movie," Quinn says.

"I don't know what you guys are so worried about," Marisa says the middle seat. "Between Rachel and Santana…and even, uh, you, Quinn, no one's going to mess with us."

Mike chuckles.

"You're not insulted that she didn't include you?" Wendy asks.

Mike shakes his head. "Naw, but Puck would be." He undoes his seatbelt. "C'mon guys. They're waiting and we don't want to piss off Santana."

"That's for damn sure," Quinn says, slowly getting out of the car.

"You really know how to pick 'em," Mike tells Puck.

Puck shrugs. "I just go where the action is."

When the reach the door of the building, Puck knocks in code.

"Secret knocks, really?" Quinn scoffs.

"Was that morose code?" Brittany asks.

Everyone follows Puck through a maze of darkness and corner until they come to a card table. Behind it sits a balding middle aged guy in a flannel shirt. On the table is a clipboard, a stack of paper and a cash box.

"Name?" he asks.

"Santana Lopez," Puck replies.

He consults the clipboard. "Mmm. Right. Previous winner. Your entry fee is waved as long as you still have your ticket…"

Santana produces a small red piece of paper and hands it over.

"Excellent." He makes a couple notes on his clipboard. "Through those doors. Same as before, I'm sure."

Santana nods and leads the group through the double doors.

"All right, this is where we split up," Puck says. He points to the bleachers against one wall. "You guys have a seat. I'll coach Lopez through this."

"How long until it starts?" Marisa asks.

"Uh, a half hour, I think," he replies.

As Mike, Wendy, Marisa, Brittany and Quinn find seats, Rachel pushes Santana up against the closest wall and kisses her had, pressing her entire body against her and letting her knee slip between Santana's legs.

It goes on long enough that Puck starts clearing his throat. He finally grabs Rachel but the shoulder and pulls them apart.

"That was for good luck," Rachel smirks. She leans in. "Win and I'll do _whatever_you want later, tiger."

Still trying to catch her breath, Santana nods.

"All right, bro," Puck says. "That's enough."

"Incentive, Noah."

"Distraction, Rach."

"I'll see you after, babe?"

Rachel nods and skips to join the others on the bleachers.

**…**

"The constant eye sex wasn't enough for you, Berry?" Quinn asks as Rachel sits next to her in the bleachers.

"I just wanted to wish her luck," Rachel replies. "Despite my stance on violence, I can't help but find this whole situation a bit of a turn on."

"Ahhh! I don't need to hear that," Quinn growls.

Rachel just smirks. Like everyone else, she lets her eyes wander around the room, trying to take it all in. After a few moments, she sees what she was looking for.

"I need to go take care of something," she says, jumping up.

"Bathroom?" Wendy asks. "Because I don't think that's a good idea, here."

"Not the bathroom. I should be back momentarily."

And before anyone can respond, she's hopping down the bleachers and disappearing into the crowd.

**…**

Once Rachel leaves, Puck and Santana head over to the registration table to sign in. They hand her a number, 3, ask her height and weight, before placing her in the bracket. Just like before, there are seven other contenders. The only difference is every one of them has participated in at least other chess boxing match. Santana tries not to let that worry her. Instead, she and Puck find a quiet corner she can warm up in.

**…**

His name is supposedly Jon. He's dressed in a leather jacket, jeans and sunglasses.

"Hey there, little lady," he greets.

"You're Jon?"

"I am," he nods.

"I need to place two separate bets, please."

"Of course." He pulls out a small notebook. "Go ahead."

"Um, one on Santana Lopez to win and I want to put down five hundred dollars."

"All right." He makes a couple notes. "Just so you know, her odds are 10 to 1." When Rachel just nods, he makes a few more notes and then rips out a sheet of paper. "Your receipt."

"Thanks," Rachel says, accepting the piece of paper.

"And the other?"

"One hundred dollars for Santana Lopez to win," Rachel replies.

Jon raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything as he scribbles in his notebook. After a moment, he hands over the other piece of paper and then holds out his hand.

Rachel hands over thirty twenty dollar bills. Jon counts it twice and then nods.

As Rachel's turning around to return to her seat, she runs into someone in a navy tracksuit.

"Coach Sylvester!"

"Berry."

"You're here."

"I am," she replies. "Placing a bet, actually."

"How much?" Jon asks.

"A thousand. On Santana Lopez winning it all."

"She's a popular girl tonight," Jon says, writing in his notebook.

"I'd ask if you want to join us, Coach," Rachel says. "But I already know the answer."

"If you were just with B, maybe," Coach Sylvester replies. "But I'm pretty sure my appearance would make Kory's head explode."

"Quinn's too."

"I'm not so sure about Fabray, actually," Coach Sylvester says. "But either way."

"Well, then perhaps I'll see you after."

Coach Sylvester chuckles, shaking her head. "Only you could make it sound like we're just at a tea party, Berry."

Rachel smirks, half shrugs and then disappears back into the crowd.

**…**

Rachel's thankful that Santana is up first. She knows she'll be sitting through a number of matches tonight, but waiting for Santana's matches is going to be the most difficult part; even more than watching Santana get hurt. It's usually the waiting that's Rachel's problem.

"Nervous?" Mike asks, leaning in to be heard.

Rachel's nods.

"Are you going to be able to watch this?"

Rachel nods again.

"But speaking seems to be out of the question?"

Rachel nods once more.

"All right then." Mike leans away from Rachel and whispers something in Wendy's ear. After a moment, she glances over at Rachel and nods. Mike leans back to Rachel and wraps his arm around her. "It'll be okay, Rach."

"Thanks," Rachel tells him, leaning into him as the first round of chess ends and the first round of boxing begins.

**…**

Santana is shocked when she wins her first match by knockout. Her opponent is taller than Puck and all muscle. He does all right on the chessboard, but Santana figures he won with brute force and just enough chess knowledge to get through two rounds.

But a lucky punch at the beginning of the second round of boxing takes him down. He doesn't get up in time and Santana is declared the winner.

**…**

Three more matches and then Santana is up again. She's up against a guy that reminds Rachel a little of Mike. The guy's obviously in good shape, but she'd never peg him as a boxer. And from his first round match, Rachel is pretty sure he isn't. He won very quickly in the second round of chess.

Santana's strategy seems to be beating him during the boxing rounds. It doesn't help that he seems to quite adept at dodging her punches. There's a lot more dancing during the boxing round than everyone has seen this evening. It seems pretty clear that this match is going to be won on the chess board.

It happens in the seventh round of chess, when the audience is beginning to wonder if the match is ever going to end. Check is called and Rachel feels her hopes drop. She knows that check doesn't mean it's automatically over, but it does put Santana in a tough spot.

Except, Santana doesn't seem upset. Instead, she's grinning like a maniac. She moves a piece and when her opponent makes his move, he doesn't repeat check, like everyone is expecting. And then Santana makes her move, she says, "Checkmate."

A hush falls over the crowd as the ref approaches the board. He examines it for a moment before grabbing Santana's arm and declaring her the winner.

**…**

The other semi final round is arduous to watch. It's brutal and harsh, while still being an extreme mental challenge on the chess board. There's a screen showing what's happening in the ring and Rachel is impressed with the speed that they both play.

She worries about Santana. She knows her girlfriend hates to lose and that she'll throw herself completely into the final match. Rachel just hopes that it ends okay.

**…**

"All right, Lopez," Puck says as they wait for the bell to ring. "You fucking got this."

Santana nods.

"You're the biggest badass I know. And so fucking awesome that I don't mind handing over that title."

"If you ever had it," Santana replies.

"It's debatable," Puck says. "But you're going to go out there and kick his ass in the ring and on the board. Because you won't let yourself do anything less."

Santana nods again.

"Plus, Rach is out there. You gotta win it for your girl."

Santana rolls her eyes, but nods.

"Right then. Go out there and show him who's boss."

**…**

The last round is tense. Even though everyone's seen Santana take on two other opponents, seeing her in the ring with a six foot three, two-hundred fifty pound man is startling. Rachel tries to remember why she wanted to see this.

"You okay?" Mike whispers, his arm still around her.

"I don't know."

"She'll be fine, you know," Mike replies. "She's Santana fucking Lopez."

"I know," Rachel says. "But I still…"

"I know," Mike tells her.

**…**

The final match is long. Santana may be outmatched physically, but she can still hold her own. She dodges a lot and tries to get in punches that will do real damage.

The chess is different. Santana brushed up on her chess playing as soon as Puck told her about the match, but she has a feeling this guy, Darren, has been honing his skills a bit longer. Still, she's not going to go down without a fight and so she tries the circular tease that she used last time.

It seems to work because in the sixth round of chess, he makes a fatal mistake that allows Santana to take his queen and leave him nearly defenseless. But then the noise defenders are pulled off and they're boxing again.

Knowing she just has to make it to the next round of chess gives Santana enough energy to survive. She even manages to get in two excellent face hits that she hopes rattle his brain a bit.

When they sit down for another round of chess, Santana finds it surprisingly easy to settle into, what she hopes is, the final round. Darren doesn't have that many places to go and it shows in his moves. Santana chases him down and earns a checkmate.

The ref examines the board for a few moments before declaring Santana the winner.

**…**

The moment Santana is declared the winner Rachel is off the bleachers and running to the ring.

"You don't want to hug me, babe," Santana says, climbing out. "I mean, look."

Rachel ignores this and gently wraps her arms around her girlfriend. "You were amazing-are amazing."

Despite the pain, she knows is coming, Santana tightens her arms around Rachel and lets herself sink into the embrace. Nothing else matters.

"You also scared the shit out of me," Rachel adds. "But I knew you could do it."

"Thanks babe."

"Hey guys," Puck says. "If you want to shower, Lopez, better go now."

"Figures," Santana says, taking a step back. "I'll be quick." She accepts the backpack from Puck and heads into the locker room.

Puck hands Rachel a towel. "You have a little blood on your cheek."

"Oh." Rachel wipes her left cheek. "Didn't even notice."

"Our girl came through," Puck says.

Rachel nods. She hands Puck a piece of paper. "Should we? While we're waiting?"

Puck nods and the two disappear into the crowd.

**…**

"Just when you think you've seen everything," Mike says, still sitting in the bleachers, looking down at the ring.

"Seeing the violent and the cerebral in the same small space is rather unique," Marisa says.

"Oh. Yeah, that too."

"What were you referring to?" Quinn asks.

Mike points to Rachel embracing the bruised, battered, blood and sweat covered Santana. When Santana pulls away, they can all see the blood she left on Rachel. Oddly, Rachel doesn't seem to notice.

"Rachy loves Santana," Brittany says.

"We know, Britt," Quinn replies. "It's just unexpected."

"No it's not," Brittany says. "If you think that then, you don't know."

"What?"

"That Rachel loves Santana."

No one responds as they watch Rachel chat with Puck.

"You're awfully quiet," Mike says to Wendy.

"I, uh, was just thinking," Wendy replies.

"Oh?"

"I really need to talk to Missy tomorrow," Wendy says.

"About?"

"Make sure she knows that Santana's one to mess with. I mean, did we just watch the same thing? You're all acting so fucking causal about this. If she can win a damn chess boxing tournament, then she can do anything. Mis needs to know not the mess with her. I'd hate for Santana to bury her under the football field or something."

"I already knew that," Brittany says.

**…**

"So now what?" Puck asks as they stand between his truck and Mike's car.

"Considering the fact that it's almost one in the morning," Rachel says. "I suggest home."

"Yeah, the pain is starting to kick in," Santana adds.

"Price of being a badass, S," Quinn says.

"Thanks for letting us come, San," Brittany says. "You're so fucking hot when you're kicking ass."

Wendy stares at Brittany as Marisa elbows her.

"What? It's true."

"Doesn't mean you need to say it out loud," Marisa grumbles.

"Call you later, B," Santana says before slowly climbing into the truck.

Mike unlocks his car and Brittany, Marisa and Quinn crawl into the back as Wendy sits in front. He, then, has to speed out of the parking lot after Puck.

"Figures that he'd forget that you need to follow him back to Lima," Quinn says.

"Not to mention, everyone's cars are still at Rachel's," Marisa adds.

"Rachel probably already reminded him," Mike replies. "See?"

Everyone stares as Puck slows down to a more follow-able speed.

"Berry," Quinn huffs, shaking her head.

**…**

At Rachel's house, everyone gets into their cars and heads home. Puck helps a reluctant Santana up the stairs and into Rachel's room.

"I'm not an invalid," she grouses.

"You are injured," Rachel points out.

"I'll heal," Santana replies.

"See you guys Monday," Puck says.

"Thanks for your help, Noah," Rachel tells him.

"Totally worth it, bro," he replies. He knows he's probably going to get hit for saying it, but he can't help it; it's been too great of night. "B's right. Your girl is so fucking hot when she's kicking ass."

Thankfully, Rachel just smirks. "I know."

He half hugs her, relieved she's not mad before thundering down the stairs and back out to his truck.

**…**

"Do you need anything?" Rachel asks as she shuts her bedroom door.

"Just you, babe," Santana says quietly, her face half pressed into a pillow.

"I wish we could get you some pain pills," Rachel replies as she changes into her pajamas.

"Me too. Guess Ibuprofen will just have to do."

"And taking it easy for a while," Rachel adds.

"As much as Coach will let me I suppose."

Considering that Coach Sylvester is now ten thousand dollars richer thanks to Santana, Rachel hopes that maybe Santana will be given a break, for a few days anyway. But knowing that Santana never saw Coach Sylvester there, Rachel says, "I'll talk to her on Monday. I bet she'll go easy on you for the week."

"Ha! That'll be the day."

"She likes me," Rachel says, slipping into bed. "It can't hurt to ask."

"And then have her accuse me of hiding behind your insanely short skirts?"

"My skirts are an appropriate length," Rachel retorts. "And so what if she does? That doesn't mean she won't agree."

"I'm pretty sure it does, babe."

"Fine," Rachel sighs. "We can argue about it tomorrow."

"Goody," Santana grumbles as Rachel turns off the light.

**…**

Saturday morning, Rachel wakes up first. For once, Santana is lying fully atop Rachel. Usually they end up spooning with Santana as the big spoon because Rachel's far too short to ever be considered the big anything. Despite being annoyed at another height joke, Rachel feels like there's something sweet and Santana like in that statement. But that doesn't stop her from arguing every time Santana says it.

However, because of her injuries, Santana found sleeping on her stomach to be the least painful. Apparently, most of her bruises don't bother her when she's lying on Rachel. Santana had quipped that Rachel is like a healing balm, chuckling to herself and then making herself wince at the action. Rachel had just shook her head, despite lying in bed and let Santana maneuver herself into a position of comfort.

But now in the early Saturday morning light, Rachel wonders if it's possible to escape her bed without waking Santana. She really feels the need to work out, but Santana definitely needs her rest. Rachel's hoping that if her girlfriend rests all day and tomorrow, she might not feel so horrible at school on Monday.

Rachel dresses quietly for quick jog outside. Yes, it's January in Lima, but she doesn't want to wake Santana with her elliptical and for whatever reason, she really feels the need to exercise this morning. So after lacing up her sneakers, she jots a quick note to Santana on a post it and sticks it next to the bottle of water and ibuprofen sitting on the night stand next to Santana. And then she quickly heads downstairs and out into the early morning cold.

**…**

Santana wakes up alone and sore. Turning slightly to see the time, tells her it's just after eight. She hears the shower running and lets out a sigh of relief. It's not that she's upset that she didn't get to wake up with Rachel, it's just she'd been hoping for some pampering because of her injuries. However, Santana's pretty sure that Rachel didn't expect her to be awake quite yet.

And as the pain begins to fully register, Santana begins to wish she was still asleep. She rolls over, groaning and swallows the several ibuprofen followed with many swigs of water. She lets herself collapse back onto the bed and tries to drift back to sleep.

**…**

When Santana wakes up again, it's to the smell of coffee. Opening her eyes reveal that Rachel is stretched out next to her reading. There's a half drunk mug of coffee on the nightstand next to Rachel. Santana watches her take a careful sip and set the mug back down before turning a page in _The Metamorphosis_.

"Morning," Santana croaks, still wary of the pain.

"Hey tiger," Rachel smiles. "Want some coffee?"

"Maybe in a bit."

"Ibuprofen?"

"Definitely."

Rachel hands Santana the pills and helps her sit up enough to drink some water. Santana then lies back down, her head now on Rachel's lap.

"I figured you needed the rest," Rachel answers Santana's unasked question. "Sleep is supposed to be excellent medicine."

"Yeah, I know. It was last time too." Santana sighs. "But I don't want to spend the whole weekend sleeping."

"I assumed as much," Rachel replies. "Which is why we're going to stay in bed until we have to head over to your house for dinner tomorrow night. I picked up a couple movies and maybe we can order some take out later."

"You know what _my_suggestion for staying in bed activities are, don't you?"

Rachel smirks. "And normally they'd be mine too, San. But I don't want to hurt you. Let's give you at least twenty-four hours."

"It's fine," Santana insists. "As long as I don't do anything too strenuous."

"Um… Are we talking about the same thing here?" Rachel questions. "Or are you just insinuating that I should do all the work?"

Santana smirks. "I've earned it."

"Oh please," Rachel scoffs. "Just because you ended up victorious in a situation few thought you'd succeed in, doesn't mean you've _earned_it. You make it sound like you won a great battle."

"I did."

"You know what I mean."

"So that's a no to sex?" Santana pouts.

"Until tomorrow anyway."

"This is so not how to reward the conquering hero," Santana grumbles.

**…**

Despite Santana's grumbling, they do have a great day together. Lately it feels to Rachel that they don't really have that much time to just sit around and _be_; just be Rachel and Santana. She knows senior year is meant to be chaotic, which just adds to the busy schedules that both she and Santana have and though she'd probably only ever admit it to Santana, and then only if pushed, but she's been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. Even though it's only been a couple weeks since winter break ended.

Or maybe, Rachel thinks, watching Santana argue with the TV, it's something else. Recently, Rachel's found herself gazing at Santana more and more. She blames it on her silly romantic notions, which some days is at war with her more pragmatic side. Though she wants to ignore them, she can't, since her Broadway dreams are wrapped up in her romantic side. However, her pragmatic side is what has allowed her to survive in Lima this long.

And they've been in constant conflict for the last few months. With the end of their time in Lima looming, Rachel has debating if this relationship between her and Santana will last through college. Though they've applied to colleges near each other, that is certainly no guarantee; not to mention that both their college plans involve them both being _extremely_busy.

The pragmatic side of her is screaming that the relationship has to end before they leave Lima, while the romantic side argues that love conquers all and anything that's thrown at them, they'll be able to handle as long as they're together. She's still not sure which side to listen to.

**…**

"Are you going to tell your parents?"

Santana glances over at Rachel as she drives towards her house for Sunday night dinner.

"I don't know," Santana replies quietly, expecting a reprimand.

"What did you do last time?" Rachel asks instead.

"Blamed it on Cheerios and used a lot of cover up."

"Oh."

"They were still pretty wary of pissing me off still then, which made it easier," Santana continues. "So lying probably isn't an option this time."

"What about just not saying anything at all?" Rachel suggests.

Santana looks over at her in surprise; she definitely didn't expect that. "What? Why? How?"

"I just hate for them to worry," Rachel says. "And so maybe if we don't mention it, it can be more like a lack of sharing than a bold faced lie. And you've manage to cover up all your bruises. Maybe they'll just assume the soreness is from something sexually related."

Santana is shocked to feel herself blushing. "And _you're_okay with that?"

Rachel shrugs. "As long as I don't think about it _too_much, yes." She shudders. "Or think about them thinking about it."

Santana actually feels nauseous. "Was _that_really necessary?"

"No," Rachel replies. "And I regret even thinking it."

Santana pulls into her driveway and shuts off her car.

"I'll follow your lead, tiger," Rachel tells her. "However you want to do this is fine with me."

"Thanks babe."

**…**

Rachel wonders what it says about her that one of her favorite things about her relationship with Tomás is how he likes to tweak Santana about Rachel being his favorite. She thinks it's the knowing smirk he wears whenever his daughter isn't looking at him. Plus, it's nice to have a sort of inside joke with someone. It makes her feel less alone; well, most things about the Lopez family make her feel less alone.

Once they're seated at the table and eating, they chit chat about the past week and Rachel tries not to feel guilty when Clara asks Santana if Coach Sylvester is being extra tyrannical this week.

"Uh…"

"You're moving a bit slowly, dear," Clara says.

"I guess she was a bit harsher," Santana replies.

"I know you enjoy it Santana, darling," Clara continues. "But sometimes I worry that you push yourself too hard."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Tomás asks. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you fell this week."

"Yes, exactly," Clara agrees. "Either that or you and… Never mind."

"What?"

"It's not important dear."

Since Clara seems intent on staring at her food, Rachel assumes she's come to the conclusion of vigorous sex as the reason Santana's sore. She briefly wonders what Clara thinks they're doing that would leave Santana sore enough to show, but leave Rachel walking normally. A shudder puts an end to that disturbing thought.

When everyone else falls silent, Tomás has no choice, but to do so as well.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Rachel asks Tomás about work and conversation starts up again. Thankfully it lasts through the rest of dinner; but topics that could veer off into the uncomfortable are avoided.

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something here?" Tomás asks as Rachel jumps up to clear the table.

"Um…"

"Maybe it'd just be easier, if you girls just told us what you're trying to hide."

"We're not—"

"Santana," Clara warns.

Santana sighs. "Fine." She stands and goes into the kitchen. They hear the water running and Santana returns, wiping her face with a paper towel. When she pulls it away, a black eye and a bruised jaw are apparent. She holds up her hand before her parents can ask. "Friday night I participated in a chess boxing tournament. Hence, my injuries. But on the upside, I won."

No one says anything. After a moment, Clara stands and carefully hugs Santana.

"What were you thinking?" Clara asks once she's pulled away. "You could have been seriously injured."

"But I wasn't," Santana points out. "And I won two thousand dollars."

Again no one speaks.

"I'm sorry, did you say chess boxing?" Tomás asks. "What is that?"

"It's the most absurd thing on paper," Rachel answers. "But it's rather incredible to watch."

"You play chess for two minutes and then you box for two minutes. You keep switching back and forth until someone wins on the chessboard or someone is knocked out."

"And you won?" Tomás questions. "How many bouts did you have?"

"Three," Santana answers. "There were eight participants, including me, and it was a three round bracket tournament."

"Ten to one odds that she'd win," Rachel adds. "Which I find unfair, considering she won the last time too."

"Rach," Santana hisses.

"Last time?" Clara asks.

"Oops."

"You've done this before?"

Santana nods hesitantly at her mother.

Clara sighs. "I suppose I should be more surprised."

"Whereas I couldn't be prouder," Tomás interjects. "Our little girl has it all; brains and brawn. And I'm willing to bet the opponents you were up against weren't easy."

"Definitely not," Rachel answers. "It was rather worrisome to watch."

"I can imagine."

"Hey, I survived though," Santana says, hating the pained look on Rachel's face. "I survived and I kicked ass."

"That's my girl," Tomás says, grinning. "Do I even want to know how you stumbled upon this whole thing? You didn't go searching for it, did you?"

"Course not," Santana replies. "Puck found it."

"Of course," Clara scoffs.

"Clara," Rachel says. "I know Noah has some rather obvious negative qualities, but he does mean well. And he's gotten better. I think."

"Noah?" Tomás asks, looking amused.

"I refuse to acknowledge his ridiculous nickname, when he has such a nice first name," Rachel replies.

Santana tries unsuccessfully to hold back laughter.

"I can't believe he lets you call him that," Clara says.

"Well my powers of persuasion are excellent," Rachel replies.

"So I'm just supposed to be okay with this?" Clara asks Santana.

"Um, well, it's not like it's a regular thing," Santana replies. "I mean, I doubt I'll be doing it again anytime soon. And honestly, I'm not sure I want to. Yeah, it's nice to have the extra money, but I don't remember being this sore last time."

"I think your opponents were more difficult this time," Rachel says. "At least that's what Noah said."

"Gotta love that competitive nature," Tomás adds. "It's not just that you love to win, it's that you hate to lose."

Santana shrugs and then winces. "Pretty much."

"Of course you would approve," Clara chastises.

"Well, what's done is done," Tomás replies. "And I'm impressed. I can't imagine it's easy to switch mindsets so quickly and fluidly to actually be successful."

"It's not," Santana agrees.

Clara sighs. "Just promise me you won't be doing this again."

"Um…" Santana shrugs and then winces again. "I can't."

"You can't?"

"I don't plan on it, but I don't want to make a promise I might not keep."

"Well I can appreciate that, at least," Clara says.

**…**

"You think they'll let the open door policy drop tonight?" Rachel asks. "Since you're in no state to properly ravage me?"

"You can ask," Santana replies. "But only if you ask _exactly_like that."

"Then I will not be asking," Rachel says as she settles into bed.

"Ah, come on, it'll be fun," Santana teases, sliding into bed next to Rachel.

"I think someone's forgot the horrible awkwardness we experienced in the middle of dinner," Rachel says as she and Santana try to find a comfortable position.

"The whole evening's been sorta awkward," Santana replies, finally settling on her stomach atop Rachel.

Rachel sighs contently as she wraps her arms around Santana. "Worth it."

Snuggling into Rachel, Santana feels the same way. "Love you, babe."

"You too, tiger."

**…**

When Sue arrives in her office Monday morning, she's surprised to find an envelope sitting on her computer. It reads,_Coach Sylvester_. She opens it, curious and cautious.

_Coach,_

_Though I know it goes against your every instinct, could you please go easy on Santana for a couple days? She's definitely still smarting from the match Friday night and I would really appreciate it if she could have an easy few days._

_And no, this does not count as me calling in the favor you owe me. Considering that Santana's victory earned you ten-thousand dollars, I feel like you owe this to **her**._

_Thank you, Rachel Berry_

Sue can't help but smirk. Only Berry would have the cojones to ask such a thing; everyone knows that Sue doesn't go easy on _any_one for any reason. But Berry's right, Sue is now ten-thousand dollars richer thanks to Lopez. And since she has such specific plans for the money, she supposes she could cut Lopez a little bit of slack for a few days.

Nonetheless, she burns Berry's note; can't have anyone finding any evidence of Sue's niceness. Even just the mere fact that Berry would even dare to ask conveys weakness on Sue's part. She doesn't begrudge Berry for asking; she'd expect nothing less from Lopez's girl. If anything, it just proves once again that Sue that she was right Berry being good for Lopez. But she's damn sure not going to let anyone else know that. She has a reputation to maintain after all.


	41. Some Variations on Pranks Past

**Title:** Some Variations on Pranks Past  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Artie, Brittany/Marisa, Mike/Wendy, Tina  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "So what? Now you're some sort of prank wish full filling fairy?" Santana asks.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~9,175  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> just references to previous stories.  
><strong>AN:** Puck's prank idea came from bradstev, though I tweaked it a bit based off of Wizards of Waverly Place 3x11.

* * *

><p>Monday morning, Santana is shocked to realize that Coach Sylvester is going easy on her. She actually pinches herself to make sure she's not dreaming. Or suffering from a severe concussion.<p>

The pain is real and sharp, so apparently her girlfriend's power of persuasion knows no bounds, especially if she was able to convince Coach Sylvester to actually relax, even if it's just a smidge.

Santana finds this incredibly hot. She wishes she wasn't still sore because it's going to be really tough to keep her hands off Rachel the rest of the day.

**…**

Rachel supposes she shouldn't be surprised when Artie corners her Monday morning, demanding that they pull a prank together, though she is. She expected him to come up with a group idea first for some reason. He'd been so gung ho about it during winter break.

She agrees to meet him during lunch in the choir room so they can talk.

**…**

Santana's becoming paranoid. It feels like everyone's staring at her. She knows no one can see the bruises; she made sure of that before leaving the house this morning. And no one commented during Cheerios' practice.

Though, upon reflection, she does remember getting some odd looks from the others in the locker room.

She'll have to ask Britt if she heard anything.

**…**

Of course privacy doesn't seem to be something they've earned today. When Artie and Rachel enter the choir room, they find Brittany in the corner making out with Marisa.

"Sorry," Rachel says.

Marisa buries her head against her girlfriend's shoulder, while Brittany response is to smirk.

"We'll just go somewhere else," Rachel tells them.

"Nah," Brittany replies. "Marisa supposed to be having lunch with her Chem lab partner to go over a project anyway. I should probably stop distracting her."

Rachel looks at Marisa who nods her confirmation. Still she asks, "You sure?"

Brittany nods as she pulls Marisa up with her. "See you guys." And then Brittany drags Marisa out of the room.

"That was…random," Artie says.

"That's Britt," Rachel shrugs.

"So I have an idea, but I'm not sure if it's too crazy," Artie says as they settle down to eat.

"All right."

Artie pulls out a sandwich. "At first I wanted to flood the school, but I thought that just might be too dangerous. So how about we flood it with marbles? Just like ankle deep."

"And what happens when someone opens the door?" Rachel asks.

"Hmmm. Good point," Artie agrees. "I guess we'd have to put up damns of sort."

"That would work," Rachel says. "We'll have to figure out what to use, how tall the damns should be, how to attach it and how we're going to get all the stuff here."

"Well the Durango can carry a lot," Artie says.

"That it does," Rachel agrees. "Um… Are you going to be able to wheel through marbles with your chair?"

"I don't know," Artie replies. "I've never tried."

"That might need to be investigated," Rachel tells him.

They spend the rest of lunch planning as Artie's giddiness seems to increase.

**…**

Santana's thankful that Brittany's already in the lunch room when she arrives. Her paranoia is reaching epic levels.

"Hi S," Brittany chirps when Santana sits next to her.

"Hey B."

"What's wrong?"

"People are weird today," Santana replies.

"People are weird every day."

"I know, but everyone's been extra weird around me today."

"Everyone's afraid of you," Quinn growls, sitting across from Santana.

"Why?"

"Because thanks to Wendy Kory, everyone knows that you kicked the ass of a three hundred pound boxer this weekend."

"Of course."

"Man the whole school is buzzing about you, Santana," Mike says, sitting next to Quinn.

"Because your damn girlfriend can't keep her mouth shut," Santana retorts.

"In fairness, did you tell her to?" Brittany questions.

"No," Santana grumbles.

"I don't see why you're pissed," Quinn says. "You're officially the scariest person at McKinley at the moment."

"Well I don't want to be," Santana hisses. "I just wanted to finish the semester and escape this hell hole."

"Well then you should have informed your entourage of that," Mike says.

"I didn't want a damn entourage to begin with," Santana tells him.

"After lunch, can we see if the hallway parts for you?" Brittany asks. "Like the Red Sea?"

"Seriously B?"

"No bible references, please," Quinn says.

"You've always been a BAMF," Mike adds. "What's the difference now?"

"If you show people all your strong cards, it's tougher to out maneuver them, later," Santana answers.

"We have four months left," Quinn points out. "How much maneuvering do you really need to do?"

Santana grins. "You have no idea."

"Ominous," Mike mutters.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Quinn demands.

"Santana's got her fingers in a lot of pies," Brittany offers.

"Dirty," Mike mutters, grinning.

"Because now you're part of some big con—"

"Yeah," Santana interrupts Quinn. "Something like that."

Santana and Quinn share a hard stare for a moment.

"I think I liked it better when I didn't know anything," Quinn says, blinking.

"Ignorance is bliss," Brittany says.

**…**

Artie gives Rachel a ride home after school, so they can discuss specifics of the prank.

Artie's excitement shows and they spend the short drive from McKinley singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs.

They spend the afternoon planning and plotting. They seem to be on the same page, though Rachel does have to rein Artie in a bit sometimes. His ideas and ambitions are a bit out of their abilities. Still, it's never hostile; Artie seems to bow to Rachel's experience gained knowledge gracefully.

It's a fun afternoon and as she walks Artie out, Rachel feels a bit of sadness that they don't have the four years of friendship in their history that she'd always hoped for. But not one to dwell in the past, Rachel decides to just enjoy the next four months.

Better late than never, right?

**…**

Santana is very surprised that Rachel doesn't bring up her new status at school. At first, she thinks that maybe Rachel hasn't heard, but she quickly dismisses that. If nothing else, Britt would have told her.

And then Santana wonders if anyone treated Rachel any different because of the rumors floating around about her. Santana prays that, if so, it wasn't too negative.

Not that Rachel can't take care of herself.

"You're quiet," Santana says finally.

"Long day, I suppose."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing too unusual," Rachel continues. "Today just felt more hectic than other Mondays."

"So no one gave you a hard time today?" Santana asks.

"And risk the wrath of my girlfriend, the biggest, bitchiest badass on the block?"

"Um…"

"No one would risk that, tiger," Rachel says. "Your rep may become the stuff of legends, I think."

Santana groans.

"I would have thought you'd be pleased."

Santana sighs. "I would have thought so, too. But everyone was so damn awkward around me today. It's annoying."

"You say that like you're not annoyed with people at McKinley on a daily basis."

Santana snorts. "Yeah. Yeah. I know."

Rachel is quiet for a moment before asking, "Are you mad that everyone knows or that the decision was taken from you?"

Santana sighs. "The second one."

"I know it's not ideal, but it'll be okay."

"I just can't wait until we're out of here," Santana replies. "Out there conquering the world, leaving Lima in our dust."

"That does sound lovely," Rachel agrees. "Only a few more months."

Santana wonders about the wistfulness she nears in Rachel's voice. It's not as if she actually likes Lima. She supposes it's just another random bout of nostalgia that Rachel seems to have lately.

**…**

The biggest obstacle to pulling off Artie's prank is waiting for the materials. She appreciates his ambition, but Rachel wonders if he realizes how much work they have ahead of them.

Probably not.

Rachel supposes he'll know soon enough. She wonders if all the effort will stop him from wanting to pull a group prank.

Again, probably not.

It'll just mean he wants more help. And though Rachel knows she'll say yes, it worries her. More people also equals more problems.

**…**

"Morning Rach."

"Oh, hello, Mike."

"Do you have a sec?"

"For you? Always," Rachel replies, closing her locker.

They walk down the hall, side by side and end up in the choir room.

"So what's up?"

"You remember over break when Artie suggested a group prank and you agreed?"

"I do," Rachel nods.

"Does that mean you'd be up for pulling one with me?"

"I take it you have something in mind?" Rachel prompts.

Mike nods eagerly. "I was hoping you could get a hold of that catapult again."

"Probably," Rachel replies. "Though I'm not sure I approve _repeating_a prank."

"It's not a repeat," Mike insists. "It's a variation of pranks past."

Rachel doesn't bother holding back her chuckle.

"Laugh all you want, but it sounded good in my head."

"Fine. I'll look into the catapult situation and we can talk next week? Okay?"

"Works for me," Mike says. "Thanks Rach."

**…**

There's a small part of Rachel that feels bad about the fear that Santana's very presence seems to cause. She mostly ignores it and tries to enjoy the perks of dating the scariest bitch in school.

Digging through her locker, Rachel almost misses the slight cough that announces the Cheerios' presence. Leaning slightly around her locker door she finds two familiar faces staring back.

"Wendy. Missy."

"Hi Rachel," Wendy waves.

"Hey Berry."

After a moment, Rachel asks, "Is there something specific you wanted? Or are you just here to stare at me?"

"We just wanted to thank you," Wendy says.

"For what?"

"Stopping Santana from kicking the crap out of us and then throwing us in a dumpster," Wendy answers.

"I don't think Cheerios are allowed to be thrown in dumpsters," Rachel tells her. "But you're welcome."

"Be honest with me, Rach," Missy says.

"All right."

"Even though both Wendy and Mike have confirmed it for me," Missy says. "I'm still not sure I believe it. I mean, I know Lopez is badass as hell, otherwise you wouldn't be with her. But there's no way in hell she won that chess boxing match."

"Why not?"

"Second in command to Fabray?" Missy questions. "I just don't see it. The enforcer just doesn't have it in her."

Rachel sighs. Closing her eyes, she counts to ten slowly. When she opens her eyes again, they are dark and angry. "Missy. You need to stop talking. Because if you don't, I'll be forced to do something unpleasant to you and I'm in a bit of a hurry this morning."

"Rachel she didn't mean anything by it," Wendy tries.

"That's nice of you to say, Wendy," Rachel replies. "But we both know that's not true."

"Your girl can take care of herself, you know," Missy smirks.

"I know she can," Rachel says. "But that didn't stop me from raining hell down on the last girl to insult San in my presence. And unless you apologize, I'm afraid I'll be forced to seek vengeance."

Missy scoffs and then bursts out laughing at the determined look on Rachel's face. This earns a sharp elbow from Wendy, who looks very concerned.

"Last chance, Watters," Rachel warns.

Missy is now laughing so hard that she's leaning against the lockers.

Rachel turns to Wendy. "I did warn her, right?"

Wendy nods.

"Okay then. I'll see you two around."

**…**

Santana's surprised to find Rachel already at lunch, sitting on a table and facing the entrance of the lunch room.

"Hey babe," she greets. "What's up?"

"Oh good you made it before the show started," Rachel says.

"What show?"

"Did it happen yet?" Brittany asks.

"No, but I figure any moment now," Rachel answers.

"What the hell are you two crazies talking about?" Santana demands.

"Rachel's defending your honor again," Brittany whispers loudly.

"Do I even want to know?"

"I don't know, San," Brittany replies. "Do you?"

Santana has no idea, so she joins Rachel and Brittany and watches the door.

A few minutes later, Missy Watters and Wendy Kory enter with a couple other Cheerios. A moment later, Puck and Mike appear. They push their way towards Missy and pick her up; Mike has her legs and Puck slips his arms under hers and they carry her out of the lunch room.

The moment that Puck and Mike appear, Rachel is standing. As they exit the lunch room, Rachel immediately follows, as does Brittany and a still puzzled Santana. A number of others in the lunch room trail after them.

The entire time, Rachel tries not to smirk too much as she hears Missy struggling, screaming, cursing and trying to get away. She supposes this is a bit cruel, but she's tired of dealing with Missy. Wendy isn't so bad; if Mike likes her, then Rachel can too; but Missy has earned no such leniency. Rachel also hates that she thinks being a Cheerio will protect her.

They end up on the football field where a dumpster sits. When Missy sees it, she really starts struggling and screaming to be let go. No one responds, simply following and watching.

Though she's glad no one's offering to help, Rachel finds herself disgusted with the sheep that she's surrounded by.

"How come none of the Cheerios or jocks are helping her?" Tina asks, suddenly appearing at Rachel's side.

"They know my wrath is more fearsome," Rachel smirks. "Besides, who's going to stop Noah and Mike?"

"Good point," Tina chuckles.

Instead of tossing her in, like everyone expects, the guys raise Missy high enough so they can hold her over the dumpster. They then slowly lower her down, which is extremely difficult with her fighting and hollering. Rachel figures her increase in volume is due to now knowing her fate.

When Puck and Mike let go, everyone else is shocked when they hear a splashing noise.

"What the fuck?" Santana says.

"Oh, it's filled with grape slushie," Rachel says. "Crude and over done I know, but I was in a bit of a hurry this morning. It makes my point well, though, I believe."

"And what exactly was your point?" Santana asks.

"That speaking ill of you isn't a wise idea," Rachel answers. "Besides, even after everything, she's still not backing down, not completely. I suppose I got tired of it."

"What did she say?"

"She implied that you're all brawn and no brain."

"She wouldn't be the first," Santana says.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But I gave her several opportunities to apologize and she didn't. So I took action."

"Thanks babe."

They, along with everyone else, watch as Missy struggles in the slushie as she tries to get out.

"I take it you guys emptied the dumpster?"

"Actually, apparently my bro here knows when the dumpster is emptied," Puck says joining them.

"That is so weird babe," Santana says.

"Knowledge is power."

"Are you quoting School House Rock?" Tina asks.

"So? That doesn't make it any less true."

"No judgment here," Tina replies. "Just checking."

"How did you get that much slushie so quickly?" Brittany asks.

"Technically it's just shaved ice from the ice arena," Rachel replies. "And then I added red and blue food coloring."

"Should we be concerned about her dying of hypothermia?" Mike asks. "After all, it is January."

"Nah," Rachel says. "Help should be coming any moment."

The others follow her line of sight as two janitors appear on the field with a ladder and some towels. Everyone watches as they set the ladder in the dumpster and Missy gingerly crawls out. They hand her a few towels which she immediately wraps around herself and runs inside. They used the left over towel to clean the ladder off and then head back inside the school.

"Huh," Puck says. "Did that really happen?"

"Thanks for your help, guys," Rachel says. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"Uh huh."

"Course, bro," Puck replies. "Anything to get that chick off your back."

"Where did you get all that food coloring so fast?" Tina asks.

"Apparently McKinley is ready for a ton of Easter egg dying," Rachel replies. "There's tons in the kitchen."

"How did you know that?" Mike asks.

"How do you think?"

"Right. Prankster snooping."

"Do you really think this will get her to back off?" Brittany asks. "She's rather tenacious."

Rachel chuckles as Tina, Mike and Puck look stunned at Brittany's word choice. "We can only hope."

**…**

When Rachel enters glee that afternoon, almost everyone else is there already. She sits in the front row next to Artie and Tina and then watches in amusement as Kurt and Mercedes stand and move to the back far corner.

"I take it they heard about Missy," Rachel says to Tina.

She nods. "Of course. The whole school is buzzing. Though most people think it was Santana, not you."

"I figured as much."

"Aren't you worried that people will start to put things together?" Mike asks, sitting down next to Rachel.

"Dumping someone in a dumpster full of slushie is hardly creative," Rachel replies.

"I think he means your ability to pull things together so quickly," Artie interjects. "I mean, I assume whatever upset you happened this morning."

"And not yesterday," Tina continues. "That means you set all that up before lunch."

"I mean if it was just me and Puck throwing someone in a dumpster, that's no big deal," Mike says. "But the slushie and the janitors, well, that's impressive."

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "But the idiots at this school are impressed by shiny objects."

"Still, maybe you should be a bit more careful, Rach," Artie says.

"Says the guy who blurted it out in a room full of people," Rachel retorts.

Artie grins, embarrassed. "I really thought everyone knew."

"It's fine, Artie," Rachel replies. "But you see my point?"

"We're just concerned, Rach," Mike says.

"Really," Tina adds.

Rachel sighs. "Fine. Perhaps I let my temper get away from me for a moment. I won't let it happen again."

Their conversation is halted when Mr. Schue enters the choir room, only five minutes late.

**…**

"Just when I think you're the awesomest girlfriend ever, you go and do something even more crazy and more awesome," Santana says as she drives to Rachel's after glee.

"Awesomest is not a word, Santana," Rachel chastises.

"I know. You're so amazing that I have to make up words to describe you, babe."

"Sweet talker."

"I mean, seriously," Santana continues. "Was all that really because she called me stupid?"

"Yes."

"Hmph. Probably should have just stuck with slut like everyone else."

"That would have garnered a similar response," Rachel replies.

"I don't see why," Santana says. "She wouldn't be the first or the last. Seems like a whole hell of effort."

"You'd be worth all that effort even if she just implied you were a slut, San," Rachel says, turning in her seat to face Santana. "I just hate that no one sees all your amazing potential, tiger. You're so much more than they see you as."

"I could say the same about you, babe."

"See. Sweet talker."

**…**

Sue is surprised to find Missy Kory waiting for her when she arrives Wednesday morning. Not only is it insanely early, but Sue can count on one hand the number of times she's seen Kory without Watters; not that she keeps track of that sort of thing.

Sue ignores her as she sits at her desk. The blonde follows and sits quietly in one of the chairs in front of Sue's desk. Sue continues to go through her usual morning routine. She feels Missy's eyes on her, but ignores then until it becomes too irritating.

"What?!"

"I need retribution."

"Pardon?"

"I was mega slushied yesterday," Missy says. "I need retribution."

"How is that my problem?"

"I thought Cheerios were above all that," Missy continues. "And as the highest authority at this school, I was hoping you could step in and rectify the situation."

"I don't believe that anything needs to be rectified," Sue replies.

"So what? Because she's Lopez's girlfriend, she's immune?"

"I'm sure Berry had her reasons," Sue says.

"So you're not going to take any action against her?"

"If Berry slushied you, then I'm sure you more than deserved it," Sue replies. "Having been on the receiving end of _dozens_, she wouldn't do it to someone else without reason."

"What if it was a stupid reason?" Missy asks.

"Was it?"

"I, uh… I think it was."

"And what was it?" Sue asks.

"Um, well, what it was, isn't important," Missy stutters.

"Well then retribution isn't necessary, is it?" Sue questions, smirking. "So none will be handed out by me. And if I hear of you trying anything, I'll have no problem kicking you off the squad."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

Missy tries to keep Sue's stare, but after a few seconds, she lets her eyes drop.

"Dismissed," Sue says.

Missy nods dejectedly and slumps out.

**…**

Wednesday during lunch, Rachel finds herself in Coach Sylvester's office.

"I thought slushies were banned," she says to Rachel.

"Technically, it was shaved ice and food coloring," Rachel answers.

"And you think those cretins realize that?"

"Hardly," Rachel scoffs. "But if you're concerned about this being a sign that the ban can be broken, I doubt it."

"Or you opened up my Cheerios for attack."

"Good. It's nice to see the shoe on the other foot, so to speak."

"Look, I've put up with you messing with the social order because I found it amusing and it hasn't meddled with my plans," Coach Sylvester says. "But if this shake up affects their performances, I may have to reconsider my position on you Berry."

"No offense, Coach, but if they're Cheerios, shouldn't they be used to so much more abuse?" Rachel questions. "After all, you're hardly… sweet to them."

"You're right about that," Coach Sylvester agrees. "But what about next year after you're gone? Do you really think this ban is going to last?"

Rachel doesn't answer immediately. "I suppose I never thought about that."

"You have to be careful how you wield the power, Berry," Coach Sylvester says.

"I'll keep that in mind, Coach."

**…**

Friday morning, Rachel is practically accosted at her locker by an exuberant Artie.

"I take it that they've arrived," Rachel says.

"Planning session at lunch?"

"You've figured out those specifics?"

Artie nods.

"See you then."

"Later Rach," Artie says, before speeding down the halls.

Watching him, Rachel shakes her head, a bit of disbelief at his excitement.

**…**

"So you and Artie have been spending a lot of time together," Puck says Friday night.

They're playing Rampage on the old Nintendo because Puck claimed he was feeling nostalgic and bored.

"I suppose," Rachel replies. "I think this prankster thing has made me much more interesting to him."

"That's awful cynical of you, bro," Puck says. "I mean, you're cool to hang with."

"Says the guy who only started hanging out with me after I handcuffed my girlfriend to a bed," Rachel replies wryly.

"Not just any girl though," Puck says. "Santana fucking Lopez."

"So?"

"Don't pretend you don't know why that's a big deal, Rach," Puck tells her. "It's insulting to me, your girl and yourself."

"That's a lot of insulting I just did."

**…**

Knowing she has an exhausting night ahead of her, Rachel sleeps in Sunday morning. She and Santana spend most of the day in bed at Santana's prompting, though Rachel doesn't even pretend to argue.

Spending time like this with Santana is more than Rachel ever hoped for from her high school romance. She feels like she's found _the one_and it scares her. Does she feel this way because it's true or because her youth and romantic notions are telling her so?

Wrapped up in Santana's arms, basking in the afterglow, Rachel can't imagine feeling any more complete with anyone else. Maybe ending it with Santana is a bad idea. After all, high school romances do sometimes last. She and Santana are certainly tenacious enough to fight for the relationship. That was certainly proven last year with all the obstacles thrown their way.

Santana seems willing to fight, so where is Rachel's reluctance coming from?

**…**

Citing a busy week, Rachel doesn't spend the night at the Lopez house. Instead when she arrives home, she changes into all black and begins to load her car with the necessary materials. Just before midnight, she heads to McKinley. The streets are deserted as usual.

When she arrives, she begins unloading and setting up as she waits for Artie. The dark red Durango appears moments later, so they quickly enter the building and begin setting up. Having already planned everything out, they get done rather quickly and so they head back out to the parking lot for the final stash of golf balls that is in Artie's Durango.

Artie back the vehicle as close to the side door as possible. Rachel sets up the ramp with walls she made. Artie then unlocks the back and they both watch as the golf balls begin rolling down the ramp and into the school.

It barely makes a dent and Artie is extremely glad that Rachel insisted that they didn't bring all the of the golf balls over tonight. It's exhausting to just think about.

Instead, he hands Rachel a rope ladder and puts away the ramp as Rachel heads back inside. After making sure that all traces of them have been removed, Rachel heads up to the roof.

There she finds the one hundred and thirty tons of golf balls that she and Artie have managed to smuggle onto the roof. Considering there are over one hundred and fifty thousand golf balls up here, Rachel still can't believe no one noticed. She wonders if it's because it's winter; after all, everyone just assumed all the white was snow.

She finds the vent that leads down into the auditorium and opens it. She then starts the flow of golf balls and listens as they all roll down the vent and into the school. As she watches the balls fall, she hopes they didn't miss a door. To make sure the golf balls flood the _entire_school, even the bathrooms and teachers' offices, every day in the school had to be opened. Having attended McKinley for nearly four years, Rachel's pretty sure that she and Artie found every one, but it only takes them missing one for things to not work out exactly right.

When every single ball has gone through the vent, Rachel closes the vent and walks to the edge of the building. She secures the rope ladder on two large hooks and lets it drop down the side of the building. She then begins the slow and awkward process of climbing down.

The ladder's not quite long enough and she has to drop the last six feet. Artie finds an old mattress and sets it under her. As she hits it with a grunt, she tries not to think about where Artie found the mattress, or how he managed to get it where it needed to be. She quickly climbs off and then helps Artie return it to the dumpster. It's awkward and grueling, but somehow they manage it.

There's still some time to get some sleep before school, so they part with a fist bump, get into their vehicles and drive home.

**…**

Rachel supposes arrives at school the next morning with Artie might look suspicious, but she figures only to those who know to look.

Once again, most of the school is outside waiting in the parking lot. Considering the weather, most people look pretty pissed.

"What's the hold up?" Artie asks Tina, who's standing with Kurt and Mercedes.

"Prankster," Kurt answers.

"If school's going to be canceled, we should just go," Artie says. "I mean, it's freezing out here. They can't expect us to stay out here and wait while they… I don't know."

"For once, I'm annoyed with the prankster," Mercedes pipes up. "I appreciate the warning that we may be standing outside for a while, but can't Santana have chosen something that wouldn't keep us outside in the cold all morning."

"How many times am I going to have to deny that I'm the prankster," Santana says, appearing next to Rachel. She laces their hands together. "Besides, this was obviously done by someone more insane than me."

"What makes you say that?" Artie asks.

"And if you're not the prankster, then how do you know what the prank is?" Kurt asks.

"I don't," Santana replies. "But standing outside in the middle of winter is not my idea of a good time. So no matter what it is, making us wait out here is insane."

Rachel lightly elbows Santana.

"I think it's fun," Brittany adds. "We should have a snow ball fight or something."

"We're not making snow angels, Britt," Rachel says.

"You never let me have any fun, Rachy," Brittany pouts.

"So I don't think school's going to be canceled," Puck says, joining the group.

"Then what's the hold up?" Mercedes asks.

"Seems that the entire school is filled ankle deep with golf balls."

"Golf balls?" Kurt questions.

"That's what I heard."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Kurt says.

"Seriously?" Tina asks. "Of all the things that the prankster has pulled, _this_is the most ridiculous?"

"Yeah, it almost seems tame," Mercedes adds.

"I'm a fan of the never ending orange line," Brittany says.

"You would be," Rachel teases.

Brittany just smirks.

"What makes you say that they're sending us home, Puckerman?" Santana asks.

Puck shrugs. "Just overheard some stuff."

"If it's golf balls, why don't they just open the doors?" Mercedes asks. "Yeah, it'll be a lot of fucking golf balls, but if they open the gym doors, it's not like too much damage will be done."

"Apparently there are damns set up in each door way," Puck explains. "And they can't remove them."

"The janitors don't have screw guns?" Artie asks. "Because then this school has the worst budget ever."

"I'm willing to bet they're not just screwed down," Santana says.

"Because you know how they were attached," Kurt interrupts.

"Because otherwise, we wouldn't still be standing out here," Santana finishes.

"Oooh, maybe they used crazy glue," Brittany says. "That stuff is unstickable."

"Unstickable isn't a word," Rachel mutters.

Brittany just smiles.

"What are they going to do with all the golf balls when this is all over?" Tina asks.

"I guess the golf team won't be lacking in balls," Rachel says.

Puck bursts out laughing. Everyone gives him varying looks, Rachel with a fond annoyance to Mercedes who just looks irritated.

"Whatever," Puck scoffs. "If you guys can't appreciate an inappropriate ball joke, I can't talk to you anymore."

"Good," Santana says. "Just stand there and pretend you're pretty then."

**…**

They're all eventually ushered into school. It takes a bit of effort to get Artie and his chair in, but between Puck, Santana, Tina and Brittany, they manage. Of course, maneuvering through all the golf balls takes a little more muscle than Artie's used to, but the sense of pride he feels at seeing his idea in the real world is enough to make it worth it. Besides, with this sort of effort, he could build some insane arm muscles.

"Is that your reason for coming up with this idea?" Tina asks Artie as he sorts through his locker.

"Not exactly," he answers. "Just a bonus."

"Do I even want to know where you got all these golf balls?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

Tina sighs. "I wish your giddiness was contagious."

"I do too."

**…**

In hindsight, Rachel's surprised there hasn't been that much golf ball related injuries. And by that, she means the morons of the school assaulting their unsuspecting peers with them. She supposes it hasn't occurred to them, which she's relieved about.

She decides to eat lunch in the choir room, not in the mood for Kurt's speculation. Besides, she needs to make some follow up calls to ensure that she has a catapult for next week. Not wanting to go through the same source as last time, it's taking a bit more effort. She really thought she knew more than one place to get a catapult; she finds herself oddly disappointed in herself. At least the Saunders' brothers will still be handling the pick up.

Thankfully, Mike is working on the trigger, so it's one less thing she has to worry about.

Rachel doesn't look up when the door opens, hoping whoever it is will leave upon seeing her. Instead, they timidly walk over and sit next to Rachel.

Who looks up to find a sheepish looking Marisa sitting next to her.

"Oh hello, Marisa."

"Hey Rach. Sorry to interrupt."

"It's fine." Rachel smiles. "You're not who I was hiding from."

"Oh. Okay."

"So. What's up?"

"Well, Brittany's birthday is coming up."

Rachel nods.

"And we've been going out for about five months now."

"Okay," Rachel says. "Are you not sure what to get her?"

"Not exactly," Marisa replies. "Do you mind coming over this afternoon? I want to ask something, but not here."

"Sure," Rachel says. "Though I hope you drove, because I caught a ride from Artie."

"Uh, no," Maria replies. "My mom needed the car."

"Oh. Um, okay. No problem. Just meet me by my locker after school."

"Okay. See you then."

**…**

The golf ball debacle is the breaking point for Figgins. Once the clean up process has begun, he sits down at his computer to find a solution.

First, he goes over his budget to see what is even feasible. He's willing to cut a few corners if it means ridding himself of the prankster once and for all.

After the numbers have been crunched, he looks at the dismally small digits in front of him and fights the urge to give up.

Instead, he goes online and begins searching for ideas that will fall within his miniscule budget.

**…**

Artie's exuberance about the successful prank is almost overwhelming. Rachel's half afraid he's going to crash the vehicle because he seems to be bouncing in his seat the entire drive from McKinley to Rachel's house. But it also meant that when Rachel asked if he minded giving Marisa a ride as well, he easily agreed.

"Thanks for the ride," Rachel says, getting out of the Durango.

"No prob, Rach," Artie replies. "Thanks for the prank. It was awesome. Even if my arms are practically numb."

"It was something different, that's for sure," Rachel agrees.

Not even bothering to go into the house, Marisa follows Rachel into the garage and both climb into the car. It's a quick drive to Marisa's house. They make it there right before Marisa's brothers arrive home from school.

Rachel makes them all a snack and then the boys plant themselves in front of the TV to play video games.

They head up to Marisa's room, which Rachel nervous; what could Marisa want to talk about? Rachel settles on the bed as Marisa paces in front of her.

"Can I ask you something really personal and maybe inappropriate?" Marisa asks, finally.

"You can ask," Rachel says, cautiously.

Marisa chuckles sardonically. "Fair enough." She stops pacing and looks at Rachel. "How long were you and Santana going out before you had sex?"

"Um…"

"Too personal," Marisa says. "I know. Never mind."

"No, I mean, well, yes," Rachel replies. "But actually…" Rachel sighs. "I'm embarrassed to say that Santana and I did the whole courtship backwards."

"What does that mean?"

"We had sex before we started dating—before we were really even friends."

"Oh. Was Santana your first?" Marisa asks.

"Unfortunately not," Rachel replies.

"Unfortunately?"

"Mine was given under false pretense," Rachel explains.

"Oh."

"A story for another time."

"Okay."

"Is Britt pushing for, uh, sex?" Rachel asks.

Marisa shakes her head. "I mean, we do _stuff_, but…"

"The first time is always a bit nerve wracking."

"I have a gift already picked out," Marisa says. "But part of me wonders if her birthday would be a good time for our first time."

"Okay."

"That's all you have to say?"

"It's whatever you're comfortable with, Marisa," Rachel says. "As long as you don't feel pressured."

Marisa sighs.

"Do you feel pressured?"

"It's just… Brittany. I think I've been ready for a while, but I'm scared. She has so much experience and I have almost none."

"That doesn't matter," Rachel says.

"I mean how am I supposed to measure up?" Marisa continues, as if she hasn't heard Rachel. "Not to mention the fact that she's had a threesome with you and your girlfriend."

"Uh…"

"It's just a lot to take in."

"I can see that," Rachel agrees.

Marisa nods and they lapse into silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about, you know," Rachel says eventually.

"Still…"

"But you can at least understand where my apprehension comes from."

"Um, I don't want to offend, but no one's saying you _have_to have sex with Britt. Ever."

"I know," Marisa says. "I want to though. I just…"

"Having performance anxiety?"

Marisa chuckles. "Yeah."

"Do you think talking to Britt would help?" Rachel asks.

"That sounds awkward."

"Well if you can't discuss sex, then you shouldn't be having it."

Marisa stares at Rachel for a moment. "That sounds like something straight out of one of Ms. Pillsbury's pamphlets."

"Yes, well, it's what my fathers drilled into my head when we had "the talk"," Rachel explains.

"Oh. Awkward."

"Very," Rachel agrees. "But they meant well."

"Parents."

Rachel nods. "You really should talk to Britt. She'll completely understand."

"I know," Marisa replies. "I Just can't help but feel embarrassed."

"It'll work out."

"Can we talk about something else now, please?" Marisa asks.

**…**

"So have you decided what you want to put in the catapult basket?" Rachel asks Mike.

He's driving her to school Wednesday morning because she just got confirmation on the catapult the night before and it seems the easiest and quickest way to talk.

"I was thinking yellow snow," Mike smirks. "Well, snow balls. That way they'll hit a lot more people."

"Yellow snow?"

"Food coloring," Mike answers. "You mentioned that they have a ton of it in the school kitchen."

"They do," Rachel agrees.

"Then we can grab a bunch," Mike says. "I bet they have a ton of yellow. No one ever uses yellow, but you can't buy just certain colors. Everyone always has an excess of yellow."

"Everyone always says that," Rachel replies. "But that's not necessarily true. People forget that yellow is essential in making plenty of other colors like orange."

"Orange is the only color you could come up with?" Mike teases.

"It's early."

"Please, we know you've been up for _hours_."

"Well then I've already used up my early morning thinking brain cells," Rachel retorts.

"That doesn't even make any sense."

**…**

Rachel's glad she had the forethought to have the Saunders brothers pick up the catapult because neither she or Mike has the vehicle to transport it over. The other necessary materials take up enough room in her and Mike's car, anyway.

Why Mike wants the prank to happen on a Tuesday, she doesn't quite understand. But it's his prank, sort of, and so she just agrees.

They meet at 12:30 a.m. Tuesday morning and begin setting up the pulley system to get the catapult and snow up on the roof. Since it's been over a week since it snowed, the roof is clear of snow. Rachel knows this because she checked the day before.

When the Saunders brothers show up an hour later, everything is set up and ready. They skip the pleasantries and quickly begin the process of getting everything on the roof.

Once the catapult is on the roof and in place, they bid good bye to the Saunders brothers and continue working. Once they have enough yellow snow, it all goes in the basket. Next they set up the trigger.

Mike pockets the disposable phone that will act as the trigger and they start cleaning up the mess. After all signs of them having been on the roof have been removed, they head inside the school and lock all the outer doors with chains and padlocks. Hopefully it'll be enough to keep people outside long enough.

When they part company at three, Mike can't seem to stop grinning. And Rachel can't say she isn't pleased with how things turned out.

**…**

Puck's cell phone beeps as he's driving to school Tuesday morning.

_Dress warm and stay away from the front of the parking lot._

He shakes his head. What does his bro have in store for them now?

When he arrives at McKinley, students are once again mulling around the parking lot. He finds Mike, Tina and Brittany standing together and moves to join them.

"Hey. What's the hold up today?"

"Doors are locked," Tina answers.

"Again? Prankster running out of ideas?"

"Not exactly," Mike says.

Puck looks at Mike, his curiosity piqued.

"I take it there's a reason we're supposed to stand all the way back here," Puck says.

"We figured as much," Tina says. "The texts are never wrong."

"I hope it's something entertaining," Brittany adds.

"It usually is," Mike says.

As they wait, Puck can't help, but glance at Mike. He's familiar with the cocky, knowing grin on his face. Puck's seen it enough in the mirror. It's the expression that pulling a prank with Rach creates. He doesn't want to be, but he's jealous. He's the one that encouraged Rachel's badassery. It's because of him that the prankster, the legend, exists. And now Rachel is pulling pranks with Artie and Mike. It's just not right.

His sulking is interrupted by Mike mumbling something next to him.

"Wait for it…"

The phrase is said so quietly that Puck almost misses it. Glancing at the girls, he sees that they didn't hear anything.

A moment later, Puck hears a familiar noise and something is launched off the roof of the school.

Not everyone notices it until it's hurling through the air. It's dozens and dozens of what look like snow balls, except…

"Is that yellow snow?" Tina asks as gravity begins to kick in and the snowballs start to fall.

"Technically," Mike grins.

"That is awesomely gross," Brittany says, elbowing Mike.

His grins grows. "It is, isn't it?"

Puck can grudgingly admit to himself that it's a good prank. Especially as he watches his classmates, specifically the girls, running around freaked out. The chaos of it all appeals to him. Still, the fact that it was caused by Rachel and _Mike Chang_is really getting to him. He does his best to push it aside and just enjoy the spectacle in front of him.

**…**

After the shower of yellow snow, Figgins shocks everyone by having Tony the head janitor break down one of the doors, so they can get into the school. A few minutes later, the front doors swing open and the students begin heading inside.

The ones that were hit with the snow balls are not allowed to go home, instead they're told to visit the locker rooms to clean up. There's a lot of grumbling, but everyone does what is expected of them.

**…**

Puck spends the rest of the day trying not to be annoyed. While it's not the first day he's spent having to hear about the antics of the pranksters, it is only the second time that he's felt… jealous. And he hates it. He's Puckasaurus; people are jealous of him.

For some reason, he feels like he's losing his bro. Puck knows this is ridiculous. Rach will always be his bro, even when she's a super famous Broadway star and Puck is… whatever he ends up being.

Maybe it's the smirk that Chang's been wearing all day or the similar one Artie was wearing as they all waded through golf balls last week. He's the only one who's supposed to feel that way. Britt and Santana don't count. Besides, of all the pranks Rachel has pulled, he's been part of the most. At least he has that.

He heads home feeling pathetic, which is not in his vocabulary. He decides to come up with an awesome pranks of his own to pull with his bro.

**…**

If Rachel didn't know better, she'd think Noah was avoiding her. She's barely seen him all week, not even in the halls. She's actually starting to wonder if they're still on for their usual Friday bro night.

The last few days have also been filled with hateful glares from Missy Kory. Wendy isn't always at her side, but when she is the redhead always looks apologetic. According to Brittany, Missy already went to Coach Sylvester demanding revenge, but wasn't given the green light. She'd thank Coach Sylvester if she thought that it'd matter, but Rachel knows Coach Sylvester's reasons for denying Missy are her own and don't necessarily pertain to her.

Still she knows it's only a matter of time before Missy decides to seek her own vengeance. After all, this thing between her and Missy has been building for far too long. Though she knew it was naive, she'd hoped that dumping Missy into a dumpster full of grape slushie would be enough to show Missy that she's playing a game she's not qualified to win.

Apparently not; Missy's tenacious, if nothing else.

**…**

Friday afternoon, Rachel is at her locker when Noah practically bounces up to her.

"Yo bro."

"Noah."

"I probably won't be over tonight until like seven, okay?"

"May I inquire why?" Rachel asks.

"Just got some errands to run, is all," Noah shrugs. "Got a plan."

"All right," Rachel says, cautiously. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"Later Rach."

And then Noah's bounding down the hallway, leaving a slightly bewildered Rachel staring after him.

**…**

It's taken a lot of research, but Figgins finally finds what he's looking for. It might not be a security system, but it seems perfect to help him catch the prankster. He enters his credit information and hits buy, with a real sense of accomplishment.

**…**

When Noah shows up hours later, Rachel knows he has some great scheme in mind; he's so excited he's practically vibrating.

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Rachel asks.

"You and I haven't pulled a prank in a while," he replies.

"I suppose that's true."

"So I came up with one," Noah continues. "And it's going to be epically awesome."

"Okay," Rachel says. "So we're going to just hang until midnight? Like usual?"

"Actually, I was thinking more ten, since this one's a bit more time consuming," Noah replies.

"Um, all right."

"Don't look so worried, bro," Noah says. "It's going to be awesome."

**…**

Saturday morning, Rachel is surprised when the door bell rings at eight. Santana doesn't usually show up until after nine, closer to ten. And even if it was Santana, she does have a key. Rachel can't think of anyone else she knows that would be up this early on a Saturday.

It's Brittany beaming as Marisa stands next to her, looking more asleep than awake.

"Good morning, Rachy," Brittany says.

"Hello Britt. Marisa. Come on in."

Brittany bounces inside, giving Rachel a quick hug before heading towards the kitchen. Marisa half leans against Rachel as they follow Brittany, causing Rachel to chuckle.

"I need coffee," Marisa says.

"I really thought you'd be more of a morning person," Rachel comments.

"Someone kept me up late last night," Marisa replies, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Um…

"We were playing chess," Brittany says, setting a coffee cup in front of Marisa.

"She's trying to teach me three dimensional chess," Marisa adds. "It's not going well."

"It's just a matter of training your brain to think differently," Brittany says. "Which takes practice."

"Like I said," Marisa says. "It's not going well."

"So not that I'm not pleased to see you guys," Rachel starts.

"I'll get to the point," Brittany interrupts. "As you know, my birthday is coming up."

Rachel nods.

"Well, Marisa asked me what I wanted to do and after some deliberation, I've come up with a short list."

Marisa slides a piece of notebook paper over to Rachel.

"And after a brief discussion, we both realized that you might be helpful in these endeavors," Brittany explains.

"All right."

"So I was hoping you and Marisa could figure it out together?"

"Of course, Britt," Rachel says, glancing over the list. It only has four things on it, but none of them seem terribly difficult; odd maybe, but not difficult. "Seems simple enough."

"Thanks Rachel," Marisa says.

"So you want to spend the day doing this?" Rachel asks. "I assume, next weekend?"

Brittany nods.

"Excellent. We can talk some more tomorrow, Marisa," Rachel continues. "Do you guys want some breakfast?"

"No thanks, Rachy," Brittany says. "We're going back to bed. Sort of."

"Really?"

Brittany nods again. "Yeah. I just wanted to catch you before San got here. We're going to go back to Marisa's and watch Saturday morning cartoons."

"She is," Marisa says. "I'm going to be sleeping."

"Not if your brothers are there," Brittany points out.

Marisa groans.

"Why not go to Brittany's?" Rachel asks.

"It's my parents' anniversary," Brittany replies. "I'm trying to give them as much privacy as possible. It's why I'm spending the weekend at Marisa's"

Rachel is incredibly curious what Marisa said to convince her mom to approve her girlfriend spending the weekend, but now probably isn't the time to ask. "Fair enough."

"Okay," Brittany says. "We're gonna go. See you later, Rachel."

"Bye Rachel," Marisa adds as Brittany drags her towards the door.

The front door slams shut and Rachel is left alone in the kitchen, staring at the list.

**…**

She's at the kitchen table outlining a plan when Santana arrives an hour later.

"Hey babe," Santana greets, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Whatcha doing?"

"Oh, Britt and Marisa stopped by to discuss Brittany's birthday."

"I asked her last week what she wanted to do and she said it was taken care of," Santana huffs, sitting next to Rachel at the table.

"Well it is now," Rachel replies. "Marisa and I are going to take care of it."

"So there's nothing I can do?"

"You can take care of the first one, if you want," Rachel says, sliding Brittany's list over to Santana.

"Why me?"

"Because Quinn is your best friend," Rachel replies.

"So?"

"_San_."

"Fine. For B."

"Your massive effort will be greatly appreciated," Rachel says, sarcastically.

**…**

Monday morning, Figgins can only groan when he enters his office. Everything is wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. Everything. Well, except for his chair.

He's impressed with the dedication to a task, but the prospect of clean up makes him groan. He slumps into his leather desk chair and begins unwrapping the phone. Maybe Tony has something to make this process go faster.

**…**

Because covering in Figgin's office with Christmas wrapping paper is more subtle than the previous few pranks, Rachel doesn't really hear anything about it until lunch time.

She and Marisa are sitting at the corner of a table, discussing Brittany's birthday when Mike plops down across from her.

"Hey."

"Hi Mike."

"Hey Mike."

"So seems that the prankster gave Figgins a belated Christmas present," Mike grins.

"Oh?"

"What does that mean?" Marisa asks.

"I guess someone covered Figgins' office with Christmas wrapping paper, including the walls, the windows, the cabinets, his desk, even the stapler on his desk."

"A sign of excellent fine motor skills," Marisa replies.

Mike smirks. "A few people managed to snap pictures of it before they started taking it down."

"Personally, I think he should have kept it up," Kurt says, sitting down next to Mike. "Festive."

"Do you think the stapler still worked with wrapping paper around it?" Mercedes asks, sitting next to Kurt.

"I don't see why not," Mike says.

"It's a weird prank," Mercedes says. "Why do you think sparked it?"

"Wrapping paper being eighty percent off," Kurt replies.

"Whatever works," Mike says.

"I think it's awesome," Noah says, sitting next to Rachel. "Bout time the prankster started harassing Figgins again and left the rest of us alone."

Mike chuckles as Rachel shoots Noah a pointed look.

"That is definitely a sentiment I can agree with," Kurt adds. "Though I must admit I'm actually starting to question if Santana really is the prankster."

"Considering that she says she isn't," Mike says. "That's probably a good thing."

"Yeah," Noah adds. "Keep up the accusations and she might just kick your ass one day."

"Like Rachel would let her," Kurt retorts.

"Assuming she'd listen," Noah counters.

"I'm pretty sure she would," Kurt replies. "She's held back on a hell of a lot of things cause of Rachel."

"Stopping slushies hardly count, Kurt," Rachel says.

"So you're saying you'd let Santana beat me up?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "But I don't think it'd ever come to that, anyway."

"I do," Noah pipes up.

"Drama whore," Marisa mutters.

Noah glares at her as best he can from his position next to Rachel.

Mike, meanwhile, chuckles again. "She's got your number."

"Shut it, Chang," Noah growls.

**…**

"So what? Now you're some sort of prank wish full filling fairy?" Santana asks as she walks Rachel to her car.

Santana has Cheerios practice and Rachel has a voice lesson to get to, but they've barely seen each other all day and so Santana can't help but walk her girlfriend to her car.

Rachel half shrugs. "I don't know. While I enjoy pulling pranks, I have to admit part of me has lost interest. I feel like the challenge I relished before has diminished greatly. So now, if there's something someone wants to try, I don't see a reason not to."

"Besides the usual ones of getting caught?"

"I find it difficult to say no to Noah when he pleads like he did," Rachel replies.

"And Mike and Artie?"

"It was fun."

"I still worry, babe."

"I know, San," Rachel says. "I am being careful."

Santana shoots her a rather incredulous look, but her response is cut off by someone coughing behind them.

They turn and find Becky standing there.

"Coach looking for me?" Santana asks.

Becky nods. "You're in trouble."

Santana sighs. "Figures. Fine." She turns to Rachel. "I'll call you later, babe. But this discussion isn't over."

Rachel just leans in and kisses Santana lightly. "Have fun at practice," she tells Santana. "See you later, Becky."

"Bye Rachel."

Becky stands next to Santana as they watch Rachel climb into her car and pull out of the parking lot.

"I guess we better go," Santana grumbles once Rachel's car is out of sight.

Becky nods and the two of them head inside towards the gym.


	42. A Good Day

**Title:** A Good Day  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It's Brittany's birthday.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>~3,425  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really.  
><strong>AN:** Okay, so I couldn't find an exact date for Brittany's birthday, so I'm using Heather's. Same difference, right?  
><strong><br>**

* * *

><p>When Brittany came to Rachel requesting she help set some things up for her birthday, Rachel knew the list would be unique. However, she can admit she still didn't expect anything on the list that Marisa has slid over to her. Not even the first request, which was definitely the easiest.<p>

She let Santana handle it because she just doesn't have time for Quinn's defensive snark when she was trying to figure everything else out.

So when she wakes up Saturday morning, wrapped up in Santana's arms in her fathers' bed, she can't help but smile. It's so nice when everything works out.

Since Brittany's birthday was technically on Wednesday, the official celebration is happening today, though they did have a small party in glee on Thursday. It mostly consisted of singing and dancing to random songs and then having cupcakes.

Today, however, is Brittany's day, so Rachel gently pulls herself out of Santana's embrace, not wanting to wake her and slides out of bed.

"Were yo going?" Santana mumbles as quietly opens the door.

"Coffee," Rachel replies. "And breakfast."

Santana blinks a few times, trying to wake up. "I can help."

"It's okay, San," Rachel says. "Sleep a bit longer. You'll need it."

"Kay, babe."

Chuckling to herself, Rachel quietly closes the door and heads downstairs. She makes coffee, humming to herself, but careful not to make too much noise; there are still five other people in the house, sleeping.

It's a nice feeling. This house is rarely full; even when her dads were around, it was just the three of them and the house never felt _full_. She always wondered why they bought such a big house. Then again, in Lima there weren't that many options.

As she sits at the table reading the paper and drinking coffee, Rachel wonders who will be the first to appear. She knows she's a bit of an anomaly getting up so early on a Saturday, but there's a lot to do today and she wants to make sure that everything Brittany wants, happens.

Surprisingly, or maybe not since Rachel got up at eight, no one appears for over an hour. And it's not who Rachel was expecting.

"Morning," Alyson greets as she heads straight for the coffee.

"Good morning," Rachel replies.

Alyson sits down across from Rachel and takes several sips before speaking. "You make good coffee."

"Thank you." Rachel folds up the paper. "Is Quinn still sleeping?"

Alyson nods. "I thought about going back to sleep, but the lure of coffee was just too much."

"I understand," Rachel nods.

"Thanks for, you know, letting me stay again."

"You're always welcomed, Alyson, you know that."

"And thanks for inviting me to Brittany's, uh, birthday thing," Alyson adds.

"That was all Britt," Rachel replies. "She didn't want Quinn to feel like a fifth wheel today."

"That's sweet of her."

"Plus, you're kinda cool to have around."

Alyson and Rachel look up to find Brittany entering the kitchen.

"Thanks," Alyson says as Brittany opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of orange juice.

"Good morning, Britt."

"No one else is up yet?" Brittany asks.

"I guess coffee isn't as good as lure as I was hoping," Rachel replies.

"Maybe pancakes would help," Brittany suggests.

"Is that what you want?" Rachel asks.

Brittany nods. "Blueberry?"

Rachel laughs as she stands. "I can manage that."

"You're the best Rachel."

"Don't you forget it," Rachel tells her as she pours herself more coffee.

Marisa stumbles downstairs next as Rachel's pouring the first pancake. She plops down next to Brittany at the table and half leans against her as she waves at Alyson.

"Not a morning person?" Alyson asks, smiling.

Marisa tries to shake her head, but it doesn't really work while leaning against Brittany. "Not really."

"But no coffee?"

"Never liked the stuff."

"College'll change that," Alyson replies. "You'll welcome the caffeine."

"Kid's got a couple more years to stay off the stuff, then," Santana says, entering the kitchen. "It stunts your growth."

"Is that why you're so short?" Marisa asks.

"One of the reasons." Santana presses herself against Rachel's back. "Morning babe."

"About time, lazy pants," Rachel smirks. "Some of us have been up for hours."

"Yeah, well, _some_ of us are insane," Santana says, backing away slightly and moving towards the coffee pot. She leans against the counter. "Where's Fabray? Still sleeping? Ha! She never gets to call me lazy again."

"When has Quinn ever called you lazy?" Rachel asks.

"Cheerios practice," Brittany says. "As captain, she sometimes gets lazy with her motivating insults."

"She insults you guys?" Alyson questions.

Brittany nods. "But they're motivating insults."

"That sounds like an oxymoron," Alyson says.

"That's Quinn all right," Santana laughs.

"God it's too early in the morning to have to listen to you chortling," Quinn groans entering the kitchen.

Santana just grins and moves so Quinn can pour herself some coffee.

"Please tell me we're not eating rabbit food this morning," Quinn says as she sits down next to Alyson.

"Is your nose broken?" Santana asks. "My girl's making pancakes at B's request. Did you not smell them when you were less than a foot away?"

"Apparently not, S."

"Hush you two," Rachel admonishes. "Maybe your birthday gift to Britt could be getting along for a day."

"It's okay, Rach," Brittany says. "I don't mind. It's not their fault they're too chicken to just tell each other they love each other."

"Britt," Santana warns.

"We've talked about this, B," Quinn sighs.

"I have a theory that for whatever reason, they're both afraid to admit they actually care about each other and so instead they just insult the hell out of each other. It's cute."

"I am not cute," Santana growls.

"I am not a chicken," Quinn says.

"You're both ridiculous," Rachel adds.

"Please tell me there's pancakes," Alyson says. "So they'll both be quiet."

Quinn elbows Alyson.

"What? If I wanted to hear bickering all morning, I would have stayed at my parents'."

"That's certainly true," Rachel says as she sets a stack of pancakes on the table.

"Thank god," Marisa mutters.

"Nice job, Fabray," Santana says. "Even the kid is annoyed by you."

"You mean, _you_, S," Quinn retorts.

"If you two don't stop it, you won't get any more pancakes," Brittany interjects.

"Sorry Britt," they chime.

**…**

"So what's first?" Alyson asks as she plops down at the kitchen table.

After breakfast, everyone disappeared to get ready for the day. Rachel is done first, followed quickly by Alyson.

"Um, Britt wants it to be a surprise," Rachel replies.

"But everyone, but me and Quinn know what's on the magical list," Alyson says. "How much of a surprise is that?"

"She's got a point, babe," Santana says, entering the kitchen.

"Nonetheless, it's what Brittany wants," Rachel replies. "Besides, you only saw the list once for a few seconds. Do you remember what's on it?"

Santana takes a moment, but can't and shakes her head.

"So it stays a surprise until everyone's down here," Rachel says.

"God, Berry, you've been so mellow lately, I forgot how insanely bossy you can be," Quinn says sitting next to Alyson.

"Pot," Rachel says pointing to Quinn before pointing to herself. "Kettle."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Berry," Quinn grumbles.

Alyson laughs lightly. "Don't worry, Quinn, I love you anyway."

"What's taking those two so long?" Santana asks. "I thought for sure, B'd be the first one down here, ready to go."

"Maybe they're showering together," Alyson says. "You know, to save water."

"Why does everyone always say that?" Quinn asks.

Alyson shrugs. "They just do."

"Considering I was using Rachel's dads' shower, I don't think I'd even be comfortable even _thinking_ about doing anything," Marisa says as she enters the kitchen.

"I don't see why not," Rachel says. "It's not like they use it that much anyway."

The kitchen gets quiet as Santana laces her fingers with Rachel's. No one knows what to say, since Rachel rarely brings up the lack of parental presence in her life.

Thankfully Brittany comes bouncing down the stairs a moment later. She goes directly to Rachel and gives her a big hug. When they pull apart, Brittany turns to everyone with a big smile.

"So who's driving?"

**…**

They take Santana's car with Brittany and Marisa in the front and Quinn, Alyson and Rachel in the back. Santana follows her girlfriend's quiet directions as they head out of town.

They eventually pull into the parking lot of Allen County Community Center. Everyone gets out, despite the confusion.

"Please tell me you didn't want to play wheelchair basketball, B," Quinn says as they follow Rachel inside.

Brittany shakes her head.

They watch as Rachel hands over her driver's license. The woman behind the counter disappears for a moment and they hear the sound of a copy machine. The woman returns, handing Rachel her license as well as a key chained to an orange Frisbee golf disc.

When they step inside the gym, no one knows what to expect, but seeing a giant wheel of cheese leaning against one wall isn't one of them.

"So, since Britt apparently spends too much time on the internet, we're going to do a couple things she found and has always wanted to try."

"Please tell me it doesn't involve eating all that cheese," Alyson says. "Because we just had breakfast."

"Nope," Brittany shakes her head, grinning. "We're going to race it."

"I'm sorry, could you say that again, B?" Santana asks.

"We're going to race the cheese wheel," Brittany says. "It's what they do at the Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival."

"Seriously?" Quinn asks.

Brittany nods. "You're supposed to race down a hill, but Rach figured this would be easier."

"Where did you get a wheel of cheese that big?" Alyson asks.

"Oh, it's not actually cheese," Rachel replies. "It's just a giant wagon wheel made to weigh and look the same. It can be put on that track." Rachel points to a stripe of metal running the length of the gym. "And then we race it. It's not exactly the same, but being authentic meant getting permits-"

"And you couldn't manage that, Berry?"

"Actually, I could have, but it would have taken too long. Besides, I'm not sure we want too many spectators."

"You just don't want anyone to see me beat you, Rachy."

"What does the winner get?" Alyson asks.

"This blue ribbon," Marisa answers, holding it up.

"Seriously, Berry?"

"It's not who wins, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "It's the fun of the sport."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say."

"Alyson," Rachel says. "Will you please get Quinn off of the negativity train she seems to be riding?"

Chuckling, Alyson playfully pulls Quinn aside as Rachel and Marisa begin to ready the fake wheel of cheese.

**…**

"So the timer is set," Rachel says. "And then the wheel will release at the same time as the buzzer goes off. It's as fair as I could make it."

The six of them are lined up on one side of the gym, toes just behind the out of bounds line. Brittany is practically bouncing as she waits for the signal.

"Everyone ready?" Rachel asks. When she receives general consensus back, she starts the timer.

Ten seconds later, the buzzer is going off and the cheese is released. It begins rolling as they all begin running.

Alyson finishes first, followed quickly by Brittany. Everyone else is a step or two behind. Still breathing heavily, Rachel maneuvers the wheel so it's leaning against the wall and won't fall over.

"Congrats," Brittany says to Alyson.

"Oh, well, thanks."

"You should have let her win," Quinn hisses, elbowing Alyson.

"No way, Quinn," Brittany interjects. "I'm not seven. I don't need to win. I just wanted to try it." She turns to Alyson. "Thanks for a good race."

Alyson smiles.

Marisa, meanwhile, has pulled out bottles of water from the backpack she brought. After giving everyone else one, she takes one for herself and quickly gulps down half the bottle.

"You okay, kid?"

Marisa, nods, smiling slightly at Santana. "My fault. Shouldn't have raced four athletes and an insane exercising freak. Theater doesn't keep me in as good of shape as you guys are."

"Well, you did just fine."

"Thanks. Thankfully the next activity won't be so taxing-"

"Yeah?"

"Well, for me," Marisa finishes.

Santana raises an eyebrow and turns to Rachel, curious.

**…**

"I'm sorry, but could you repeat that."

"We're going to try wife carrying next," Brittany repeats.

"None of us are married," Quinn says.

"_That's_ your argument?" Alyson chuckles.

"Why?" Santana asks.

"Because it'll be fun."

"I'm getting super curious about how you spend your time online," Alsyon says.

"You can only look at pictures of cute puppies and kitties for so long," Brittany shrugs.

The four of them watch from the bleachers as Rachel and Marisa finish setting up the obstacle course.

"I just can't believe that racing a fake wheel of cheese isn't going to be the oddest thing I do today," Quinn says.

**…**

"Okay," Rachel says, once she and Marisa finish. "It's pretty simple, but just so we're all on the same page, I'll go through it."

"Good idea, Rachy."

"You start there." Rachel points to one corner of the gym. "You run one lap and then follow the cones, weaving through them. Then you have to run up and then down the bleachers. Next, you wade through the collections of sports balls and then you sprint to the door to finish. Whoever touches the door first, wins."

"And what do we win this time?" Quinn asks.

"This exciting bottle of tequila," Marisa says, holding it up.

"Not bad, Berry."

"How come I only got a ribbon then?" Alyson asks.

"Because the Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival doesn't have a prize, but wife carrying contests usually do," Rachel answers.

"Like the wife's weight in beer," Marisa pipes up.

"So figure out who's carrying who and we'll start in a few minutes," Rachel says. "And don't forget the person being carried should wear a helmet."

**…**

They line up in the corner as Rachel moves the buzzer in place. Even without the fake wheel of cheese, the buzzer will still work, giving them ten seconds before going off.

Rachel climbs onto Santana's shoulders and they join the others at the line. She grins at Marisa and Alyson, who are on Brittany's and Quinn's back respectively, with brightly colored bike helmets on their heads. Rachel'd been curious about Alyson and Quinn. Alyson probably has better stamina because of the soccer, but Quinn's additional two inches of height seems to make her the more likely candidate to be the carrier.

"Everyone ready?" Rachel asks.

Brittany's yeah is enthusiastic, while Quinn's is a bit disgruntle.

"Let's win this, babe," Santana whispers.

Rachel nods and hits the button.

Brittany takes an early lead, which Rachel contributes to her height, since she's only a step or two ahead of her fellow Cheerios. The cones keep Brittany slightly in the lead that she somehow manages to increase as she bolts up the bleachers. Wading through soccer, volly, basket, foot, and rubber balls slow her down and let Quinn and Santana, who were neck and neck catch up.

The final sprint is a little hectic and Rachel does her best to just hold on. She knows Santana hates losing to Quinn, so she tries to make herself as aerodynamic as possible.

Brittany and Marisa finish two steps ahead of Santana and Rachel, who is basically being matched step by step by Quinn and Alyson.

Before arguing between Quinn and Santana gets to be too much, Brittany declares it a tie.

"Congrats, B," Santana says, half leaning against her best friend.

"I feel a bit obsolete," Alsyon grins.

"It was kinda fun, though, right?" Marisa asks.

Alyson nods. "Congratulations."

"Like I had anything to do with it," Marisa says. "But thanks."

"We can always go again and switch," Rachel offers.

"No thanks," Marisa says.

"Yeah, I'm good," Alyson says.

Rachel just grins.

**…**

"Please tell me the next activity involves sitting," Santana says as they drink water on the bleachers.

"It does, indeed," Rachel agrees.

"Good."

**…**

"I didn't realize that we were celebrating your seventy-second birthday, B," Quinn says as they walk into the Bingo hall.

"Don't be like that, Q," Brittany replies. "It'll be fun."

**…**

"So it's all on the machine?" Quinn asks.

Rachel nods.

"And we all have to do is yell out Bingo if we win?" Quinn continues.

Rachel nods again.

"Weird," Quinn says.

"It seems to make it easier to play multiple," Marisa says.

"But there are still paper sheets," Alyson points out.

"It'll be fun," Brittany says. "And if the machine does all the work, then I won't mess up."

"B," Santana says. "Well all know you're smarter than you act."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Habit."

**…**

They end up having a great time. Quinn and Santana can't help but cattily mock the other players around them. Brittany can't stop fiddling with her machine, changing her blotting symbol over and over. Alyson gets a little too competitive and Marisa actually wins fifty dollars.

An official stops at their table with a wad of cash. "Twenty, thirty, forty, forty-five, fifty. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Marisa says, picking up the money.

"Nice job, kid."

"Yeah, it was really tough to call out Bingo like I did," Marisa quips.

"Yeah, well, I'm totally winning the last round," Alyson says.

"The full card?" Rachel questions. "That's a tough one."

"But the prize is five hundred," Alyson replies.

"Keep hoping, Aly," Quinn adds.

**…**

Alyson doesn't win, but they still leave in a good mood.

"Please tell me food is next on the list," Quinn says.

"It is," Rachel says. "Where are we going, Britt?"

"Back to your house, actually."

"Okay, back to the car, then."

**…**

While everyone heads inside, Brittany goes to her car and pulls out a large paper bag. Inside, she sets it on the counter.

"So what's next?" Santana asks.

"I had my mom make lasagna," Brittany answers. "It just has to be headed up. She also made a small bit of eggplant parmesan for you, Rach. Totally vegan."

"Aw, thanks, Brittany."

**…**

After a boisterous dinner, each couple goes their separate ways for a little alone time at Brittany's insistence.

"Thanks for coming down," Quinn says as she slips into bed with Alyson.

"I'm glad it just worked out," Alyson replies. "Plus it was nice of Britt to invite me; even if it was more for you than me."

"I don't know about that," Quinn says. "B might like you better than me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, next time, I'm coming to see you, right?"

"Exactly," Alyson says. "My roommate's gonna be gone in a few weeks and you're driving up."

"Can't wait."

**…**

Brittany and Marisa curl up in Rachel's bed.

"Did you have a good birthday?" Marisa asks.

"One of the best."

"I'm glad." Marisa lets herself be spooned. "Brittany?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it okay that we don't, uh, that we haven't…"

"Whenever you're ready, Maris," Brittany replies. "You know that."

"I just don't want to be a disappointment."

Brittany tightens her grip around Marisa. She wants to look at her, but knows her girlfriend is more comfortable having the conversation this way.

"Well I haven't been yet," Brittany says.

"Yeah, well-"

"And do you know why that is?"

"Because it's things I already had experience with?"

"No. And that's not entirely true." Brittany can't keep the smirk off her face. "I just want to be with you. I really like you, Marisa."

"I really like you too, Brittany."

"So whenever you're ready is fine. As long as the kissing continues, I'm happy."

Marisa turns in Brittany's embrace.

"Really?"

Brittany nods.

"Happy birthday Brittany."

"That it is," Brittany replies, leaning in for a kiss.

**…**

"I think today went well," Rachel says.

"I do too," Santana agrees. "And though I think it's great that you're letting everyone stay here, do _we_ really have to be the ones in your dads' room?"

"It has to be us," Rachel replies. "Unless you want to sleep on the couch."

"Considering how much they hate me, maybe," Santana says. "What happens when they find out?"

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Santana scoffs.

"Then'll be fine."

"If you say so."

"Do you think Britt had a good day/"

"We did everything on her list, didn't we?"

"We did."

"So it was a good day, then."

"Yeah, it really was."


	43. Agree to Disagree

**Title:** Agree to Disagree  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Coach Sylvester, Mike/Wendy, Artie, Quinn, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Figgins, Becky, Tomás Lopez, Clara, Lopez, Rachel's dads  
><strong>Rating:<strong> light R  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A group prank is planned.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~16,100  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> just previous parts of this series  
><strong>AN:** Follows **A Good Day**

* * *

><p>Monday morning, Artie is waiting for Rachel at her locker. She spots him as she glides down the hallway and barely holds back a groan. She knows exactly what he wants. And while part of her thinks it'll be fun, most of her just wants a break from figuring <em>anything<em> out.

"Good morning, Artie," Rachel greets as she reaches her locker. "How was your weekend?"

"Hey Rach," Artie replies. "It was fine. How was Brittany's, uh, birthday thing?"

"Britt seemed to enjoy it," Rachel says.

"Good. That's good," Artie says. He leans in closer. "Can we talk at lunch?"

Though she has a pretty good idea of the topic, she asks, "About?"

"A group prank," Artie whispers.

"Sure. Choir room?"

Artie nods, grinning. "See you later, Rachel."

Rachel sighs as she watches him wheel away.

**…**

On her way to the choir room, Rachel receives a text from Santana.

_Lunch? ;)_

It's tempting, but she wants to hear what Artie has to say and get it over with. Rachel knows if she blows him off, she'll just spend the rest of the day wondering.

_Unfortunately, I can't. I promised Artie we'd have lunch._

_No rest for the prank fairy._

_Seems not._

_You're too nice, babe._

_I simply enjoy a challenge,_

_I know. I just worry you're taking on too much._

_I wouldn't be Rachel Berry if I didn't._

_Whatever, weirdo._

_Love you too, tiger._

**…**

"So you had an idea?"

"Sort of," Artie says. "I want to do this." He hands Rachel a packet.

"You want to try a sixth grade science project?" Rachel asks, flipping through the pages.

Artie shrugs. "Basically. I just can't figure out how exactly to… well, what to do, really."

"Hmmm, I agree," Rachel says, still flipping through the pages. "Nothing springs immediately to mind."

"Really?" Artie questions. "Because it looks kind of like you already have an idea."

"I have a seed of an idea," Rachel replies. "It still needs a bit more development. Let me read this. We'll keep brainstorming."

"Awesome." Grinning, Artie pulls out his lunch.

Rachel pulls out her lunch as well. She then flips to the first page of the packet and begins reading.

**…**

"I'm worried about Rachy," Brittany says.

She, Santana and Quinn are at one end of the Cheerios' table, while the rest of the squad huddle at the other end.

"Berry's fine, Britt," Quinn replies.

Brittany shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"Why not B?" Santana asks.

"She's doing too many pranks," Brittany replies.

Santana sighs. "I know. But she won't listen to me."

"I wish she'd stop agreeing to full fill everyone's requests."

"You know Rach is terrible at saying no," Santana replies.

"You two worry too much," Quinn says. "Berry seems to be taking care of herself just fine, this year."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "Are you defending her?"

"Definitely not," Quinn scoffs. "I'm just saying, Berry's made it this far, is all."

"That is both vague and not comforting."

**…**

"This definitely seems like a group prank," Rachel says after going through the packet a second time.

"I was kind of thinking the same thing," Artie agrees.

"Who did you have in mind?" Rachel asks.

"Well, me, you, obviously, Puck, Santana, Brittany, Mike, Quinn if she wanted, and Tina."

"Okay, well, I think that needs to be figured out first. Everything will be much easier to figure out if we know how much and what kind of help we'll have."

"Makes sense," Artie says. "Does that mean you have something in mind?"

Rachel nods.

"Okay, I'll work on that and get back to you."

**…**

It takes a bit of effort, but by the end of the day, Artie has managed to ask everyone on his list. Besides him and Rachel, they'll be six others, despite Quinn saying no.

"Sorry, but sometimes it's best to stay as far away from Berry and her crazy schemes as possible."

"All right."

"Besides, I managed to pull a prank mostly by myself last year, which _definitely_ got it out of my system."

"True," Artie agrees, though he wants to point out how many Rachel has pulled, except he doesn't know how many she did solo.

"Thanks though," Quinn says.

When Artie asks Brittany, she gives an exuberant yes, followed by, "Can Marisa help too?"

"Um, I guess. She and Rach are friends, so it should be fine."

"I'll talk to Rachel," Brittany assures him.

"Okay. Good."

Not sure if he'll be able to find Rachel, he decides to text her.

_Quinn said no. Everyone else is a yes. Brittany suggested Marisa too._

All he receives back is, _Excellent. Thank you._

He waits for more, not used to Rachel being so laconic, but nothing follows. She must be busy.

It'll just give him more time to brainstorm. He feels bad that his idea isn't fleshed out more. He doesn't know how Rachel thought up all those pranks. He's been mulling over this prank idea for almost two weeks now. His respect for her has gone up considerably.

**…**

"So you're pulling another prank," Santana says when she calls her girlfriend Monday night.

"No, _we're_ pulling another prank," Rachel corrects.

"Well, yeah, I know I agreed, but still."

"Well I hate to suggest it, but I'm going to have everyone over Saturday afternoon to go over specifics."

"I thought that was our day."

"Sunday then?" Rachel asks.

"Sunday is okay," Santana replies.

"I know it's not ideal, San," Rachel says. "And if you're really against it, I suppose we could do it Friday night. Plotting is certainly an acceptable bro night activity."

"Even if it's with six other people?"

"When you guys see what I've got planned, yes."

"All right, babe," Santana says. "It's your bro night."

**…**

"I believe I have it all figured out," Rachel tells Artie Tuesday morning.

"Really? Awesome," Artie replies. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"So I figure we have a planning session this weekend and make sure we all know what's happening," Rachel says. "For this to work, everyone is going to have to work together."

"Course. Course," Artie agrees.

"I'll let everyone know," Rachel says.

"Thanks Rach."

"Don't get too excited," Rachel warns him. "Here's your to do list." She hands him a piece of paper.

Artie looks it over and nods. "This seems doable."

"Good," Rachel says. "I'll let you know about this weekend."

"I appreciate this Rachel," Artie says.

Rachel nods and then she's hurrying away, down the hall.

**…**

Rachel gives Puck a brief rundown of the prank that Artie wants to pull and he's immediately in. He doesn't even mind giving up bro night. There's only a few more months of school and he really wants the prankster to pull one or two huge pranks before the end of the year. He hasn't really said anything because he knows how ridiculous and time consuming that can be for Rachel. He just wishes he could come up with bigger, more complex pranks.

**…**

Artie is thankful that he has such a big vehicle. It's the easiest place to store all the supplies. He knows it's his fault for coming up with something so elaborate, but on the other hand, for it to be a group prank, it needs to be a bit complicated. He feels bad that he couldn't expand on his idea, but figures Rachel is used to coming up with awesome ideas so he might as well simply bow to her expertise.

**…**

When Rachel explains to Santana some of the specifics of the group prank, her first instinct is to say no. Sure, it sounds elaborate and awesome and epic, but Santana's starting to worry about Rachel getting caught. The pranks are getting bigger and more daring; not to mention that Rachel has always said that adding more people always made things a bit more dangerous.

Rachel assures Santana that she has a contingency plan if she gets caught, but sometimes Santana worries that her girlfriend is just overestimating how much she can really get away with.

Still someone has to keep an eye on her, which is part of the reason Santana agreed. She just hopes that everything happens as Rachel has planned.

**…**

Friday night, Puck is naturally the first to arrive. He has a case of beer and a huge grin. After putting the beer in the fridge, he returns to the living room where Rachel and Artie are setting up a screen for Rachel's PowerPoint presentation.

"Thanks for letting me crash your bro night," Artie says.

"No worries," Puck replies, handing him one of the beers he's carrying. "I have a feeling that this prank is going to be epically awesome."

Artie grins. "You know it."

Shaking her head, Rachel ignores them both.

Tina's next, claiming a spot on the couch. "Thanks for the invite."

"Thanks for saying yes."

When Mike shows up a few minutes later, Puck bounds up the stairs. In Rachel's room, he finds Brittany, Marisa and Santana huddled together on Rachel's bed. Staring at them for a moment, he cannot figure out what they're doing.

"Uh, you guys ready?"

"Bout time you got here," Santana says, looking up. She slides off the bed and looks to Brittany. "I thought I'd be better at this. I mean, the additional levels make it a lot more complicated."

"Thank god," Marisa says, standing. "It's not just me."

"You guys are just over thinking it, is all," Brittany tells them.

"What are you guys talking about?" Puck asks.

"I'm trying to teach them 3-D chess," Brittany replies.

"What? Why? You know how to play 3-D chess?"

Brittany just shrugs.

"Of course you do."

"What's the hold up guys?" Rachel calls from downstairs.

"We're coming, babe," Santana replies.

The four of them traipse down the stairs.

"Get me a beer, Puckerman," Santana orders when they reach the bottom.

"Anyone else?" Puck asks the room.

"No one's getting drunk until we figure this out," Rachel says as hands raise.

"Course not, bro," Puck replies. "But one beer isn't going to hurt us. Five beers coming up."

Brittany, Marisa and Santana settle on the couch next to Tina. Mike's already claimed the recliner, leaving Puck to sprawl out on the floor after returning with the beers. He also hands Rachel a bottle of water.

"Thank you all for coming," Rachel says.

"Like we'd turn down a chance like this," Mike quips.

"Quinn did," Artie points out.

"That might be for more personal reasons," Santana says.

"Either way, we appreciate all the help we can get on this. I'm going to explain the whole prank, one step at a time. Please save all your questions for the end."

Rachel clicks start on her lap top and the PowerPoint presentation begins.

"This prank idea started with Artie." Artie's yearbook picture from their junior year is the first slide. "He suggested doing something with Oobleck." The next slide is a picture of an odd white substance. "I'm not sure if you guys are familiar with it. It's a liquid substance that you can walk on, if you do so quickly, but if you just stand still, you sink. So my idea is to fill the pool with Oobleck and trick people into walking on it."

"And how are we going to do that?" Puck asks, raising his hand.

"What did I say about questions?" Rachel says. "San."

Santana reaches out and smacks Puck in the back of the head.

"Really Rach?" he asks. He looks over his shoulder. "Besides, you were all thinking it."

"But _we_ all knew Rachy would tell us."

"_Anyway_," Rachel interrupts. "The simplest way I can see is to set something up that convinces people that they can walk on it." The next slide is of a person, walking over a white surface. "But if you can walk on it, what's the prank?" Puck asks.

Santana smacks him again without prompting.

"Yes, you can walk on it," Rachel says. "But like I said, it has to be at a brisk pace." The next slide is someone sinking in Oobleck.

Puck nods, but doesn't say anything else.

"The simplest thing I could think of was to use a tennis ball launcher," Rachel explains. The next slide is a tennis ball launcher. "Have it fire off a couple rounds. You know that'll be enough to entice one of those idiots to try it."

"But as soon as someone does, the joke is over," Tina points out.

"And what happens if they walk over the deep end?" Marisa asks. "Isn't there a chance they'll drown?"

"No loss there," Santana mutters.

"Which is why," Rachel says. "We'll be putting plexiglass across the pool so the entire thing will be the same shallow depth." The next slide is a picture of an empty pool with a clear surface running the entire length of the bottom.

"How come no one else got smacked for talking?" Puck asks.

"How is the plexiglass going to be held up?" Mike asks. "Please tell me that we aren't building something elaborate."

"Lazy," Puck murmurs.

Rachel shakes her head. The next slide appears showing a pool filled with golf balls. "The simplest thing I can think of is to fill it with is the excess golf balls. We can then duct tape the plexiglass to the pool walls to keep it all in place."

"And fill the rest with Oobleck?" Artie finishes.

Rachel nods.

"Awesome," Artie says.

"So what do you guys think?" Rachel asks.

"It's pretty ambitious, babe," Santana says.

"Yeah Rachy," Brittany adds. "Are you sure we'll be able to pull all of that off?"

"Come on, guys," Artie says. "There are eight of us total. It should be no problem."

"That's what Pucky thought about the castle," Brittany replies. "But we barely got that one finished."

"I feel like that was partly my fault," Rachel says. "I don't think I planned well enough. But I've learned from my mistakes and I have a much more detailed plan that has everything worked out."

"Maybe we should move onto that part now then," Artie suggests.

"No one else has any thoughts they want to share about this prank?" Rachel questions. "Because now would be the time to speak up."

No one speaks up. Considering how quippy everyone's been tonight, Rachel's a bit surprised. But after a moment, no one has said anything and so Rachel continues with her presentation.

"Okay the biggest hurdle," Rachel says. "Is the ingredients for the Oobleck." The next slide shows a mountain of white powder dwarfing the person standing next to it. "So we're all going to help carry in the corn starch using a couple wheelbarrows. After that, we can split up." The next slide is a picture of the pool. "Tina and Santana will drain the pool." The next slide is a picture of a tennis ball launcher and Artie's yearbook picture again. "Artie will work on getting the launcher set up and working properly. It's going to have a timer that sets off the balls." The next slide is a giant piece of glass, as well as Puck and Mike's yearbook pictures. "Mike and Noah will carry in the plexiglass. Once it's all inside, you guys can start taping it together." The next slide is a picture of a roll of duct tape. "When Brittany and Marisa are done bringing in the golf balls, they can help with the plexiglass."

Artie raises his hand. "What about making the Oobleck?"

"Priority is getting everything set up." The next slide appears. It has a picture of a swimming pool and a caulking gun. "Once the plexiglass is together, we'll put it in the pool. This will be a group effort. Once everything is in place, Marisa and I will walk along the edge and seal all the plexiglass in place."

Puck's hand shoots up, but he doesn't wait to speak. "Why just you two?"

"Because we're the shortest and probably lightest. I'm not sure how things are going to settle and I figured this would be the easiest."

"Meaning," Santana interjects. "She doesn't want the ridiculous, lumbering idiot ruining things as you ramble about."

"San, be nice."

"It's Puck."

"Anyway," Rachel says. "While we're doing that, Mike, Noah and Brittany will bring the hose from the janitors' closet." The next slide is a picture of a large hose. "Then once the plexiglass is secure, Tina and Santana can start adding the corn starch with some shovels." The next slide is pictures of various shovels. "Then once the hose is there, we can begin mixing." The next slide has everyone but Rachel and Artie's picture, along with some paddles and more shovels. "Then everyone but Noah will grab a paddle and begin stirring. Noah will be adding more corn starch as needed while Artie and I will keep an eye on the mixture's consistency and add water as necessary."

"Sounds easy enough," Mike says.

"It should be," Rachel agrees. "But we'll have to be careful."

"Careful how?" Tina asks.

"Well, getting the Oobleck the right consistency. I'd rather have the top be a little lower than I planned than to have the pool filled to the brim and not have the right consistency."

"Makes sense," Artie says. "It it's not the right consistency, it won't work at all."

"Which _means_, that those in charge of adding the corn starch and water have to follow mine or Artie's instructions to a T," Rachel explains.

Everyone, but Rachel looks at Puck.

"_Hey_! I've been pulling these by Rach's side for longer than any of you jokers. I know how to follow her directions."

"Yeah, but you're the-"

"Guys," Rachel interrupts. "I know all too well how much fun it is to pick on Noah, but he does have a point. We weren't be here if it wasn't for him."

"Awww, thanks, bro." Puck jumps up and pulls Rachel into a bear hug.

"God," Santana groans. "Just get a room already."

"I suggest that every day," Puck replies, leering.

Rachel sighs. "Noah, please sit down."

"But Rach, they started it," he protests.

"I know, but we still have more to cover."

Puck plops back down onto the floor, looking up at Rachel expectantly.

"Okay then." She clicks to the next slide, which is a repeat of the tennis ball launcher and Artie. "So once the Oobleck is properly mixed, Artie will make sure the tennis ball launcher is set up correctly while the rest of us clean up." The next slide is a repeat of the hose. "Brittany and Mike will put the hose back." Rachel clicks to the next slide which has a picture of Puck, Santana, Tina and Brittany along with a wheelbarrow and a shovel. "Noah and Santana will clean up the remaining corn starch with the wheelbarrows. Tina and Brittany will help by dumping the corn starch back into them." Rachel clicks the next slide to reveal the football field. "And then you guys can wheel it out to the field and dump it there."

"Dude," Puck interrupts. "What about all the snow?"

"I know where we should put the excess corn starch," Brittany volunteers.

"Where do you suggest Britt?" Rachel asks.

"Mr. Schue's office."

This announcement is met with silence.

"That seems kinda harsh," Marisa says.

"Rach?" Brittany asks.

"Britt, I don't know…"

"I say we take a vote," Santana says.

"Seriously?" Tina asks.

"You have a better idea?" Santana counters

"Well, no, but I also didn't think it was an actual option," Tina replies. "I mean, it's Mr. Schue."

"Exactly," Brittany says. "And it's just a little corn starch. What's the big deal?"

"I could say the same to you," Mike replies.

"Yeah," Artie agrees. "Are we missing something?"

The entire group turns to Rachel. "Don't look at me. It wasn't my suggestion."

"Yeah, but Brittany wouldn't have suggested it if she didn't think you'd be okay with it," Mike points out.

Everyone nods, even Brittany.

After an endless moment, Rachel sighs. "Fine. _Some_ people believe that Mr. Schue treats me… unfairly. And this would be a retaliation of sorts."

"_Some_ people?" Tina asks.

"Yeah," Brittany says. "Me and San and Pucky do."

"And in terms of retaliation, this seems pretty mild," Santana adds.

"Yeah, like some of the things San wa-"

Santana slaps her hand over Brittany's mouth. "This isn't sharing time, all right B?"

The blonde nods and Santana removes her hand.

"So are we voting or what?" Puck asks.

"No," Rachel says. "We'll just have to figure out another place to-"

"No we won't," Mike interjects. "We can put it in Mr. Schue's office."

Everyone stares at Mike in shock.

"I mean this is all Rachel's… uh, game, I guess. And if Britt thinks Mr. Schue is being mean, then he probably is. Plus, it's just a little corn starch. Right?"

"Exactly," Brittany agrees.

Rachel looks around the room and everyone is nodding. "All right. So after Britt and Tina fill the wheelbarrows, Santana and Noah will wheel it to Mr. Schue's office." Rachel clicks to the next slide, which shows her and Marisa, as well as a broom and a mop. "Meanwhile, Marisa and I will be cleaning."

"Cleaning what?" Marisa asks.

"Sweeping up the excess corn starch and mopping up any spilled water." Rachel explains. She clicks to the next slide with is a collection of pictures of all the items being used. "Then we can carry everything else left out to Artie's Durango before leaving. Any questions?"

Marisa raises her hand.

"Marisa?"

"What time are we meeting?"

"Excellent question. I think midnight should give us enough time," Rachel replies. "Don't you think, San?"

"Should be," Santana agrees.

"Prepare to be tired all day," Puck adds.

"Oh and how are people getting there?" Rachel asks.

"Why?" Tina asks.

"Because the fewer cars, the better," Rachel answers.

"I can give one person a ride," Artie says. "With all the stuff in the back, that's really all I can fit."

"I can fit everyone else into my car," Brittany volunteers.

"Okay, so who's getting picked up by whom?" Rachel asks. "San will catch a ride with me."

"Mike's place is on the way to McKinley," Artie says. "That okay with you, man?"

Mike nods.

"Okay, so then Britt will get Marisa, Tina and Noah?"

"Works for me, Rachy."

"Guys?"

Everyone else nods.

"Excellent," Rachel says. She closes her lap top. "You guys want to watch a movie?"

"Can I get drunk now?" Puck asks.

"Yes, Noah," Rachel huffs.

He smirks as he winks at her before jumping up and hustling into the kitchen.

The rest of the evening is spent watching movies, drinking and occasionally mocking Puck.

**…**

Rachel is nervous. Santana never would have guessed, but watching Rachel on her laptop, it's obvious. Santana is stretched out on Rachel's bed watching her girlfriend search for songs on Youtube and judging by the huffs of annoyance she keeps letting out and the slight tapping of her foot, Santana presumes that Rachel is more worried about the group prank than she's letting on.

"You seem anxious," Santana says finally.

Rachel jumps slightly; another sign, before turning to face Santana. "A bit perhaps."

"Why? Everyone knows what is expected of them and everything is meticulously planned out."

"It's going to be a lot of work," Rachel says.

"So? You're not afraid of a little hard work," Santana points out. "Or a lot."

"This is going to set the bar for pranks ridiculously high," Rachel continues.

"Higher than turning the school into a castle? Or the swimming pool into a full on pond, complete with living animals? Or water balloon bombing the whole school?"

"Perhaps not."

"It'll be fine, babe," Santana assures her.

"I'm just glad that your parents are out of town and agreed to let you stay here," Rachel says. "I'm not sure I could sit through a Sunday dinner right now."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

Rachel nods.

"Why don't we take a nap, so we're ready for tonight?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm not sure I could sleep, right now."

Santana's shirt hits Rachel squarely in the face. "Don't worry, babe. I'll tire you out."

**…**

They arrive at McKinley at 11:53 p.m. according to the clock in Rachel's car. Santana follows Rachel as she goes to the side door and watches with a smirk as her girlfriend quickly picks the lock with ease. She wonders if watching Rachel commit petty crimes will ever stop being such a turn on. God, she hopes not.

They're unloading everything from Rachel's car when the others start to arrive. Thankfully, no one seems to need step by step instructions and they begin to help unload the vehicles. Between the eight of them it takes almost no time. The real challenge is getting all the corn starch inside. Still with them all working together, it takes less time than Rachel allotted for it. Looking at her watch, Rachel lets a smile spread across her face.

Once everything's inside, everyone splits up to do their assigned tasks. They're all so focused that they don't notice that they're being watched until a shrill whistle grabs their attention.

Everyone's heads whip around to find Principal Figgins watching them.

**…**

"So the prankster is more than one person," Figgins comments, still eyeing everyone.

No one's moving.

"I can still see you, you know, even if you're standing still," he says.

"We're just in shock," Rachel replies.

"Ms. Berry. I should have known. And what a surprise, Ms. Lopez and Mr. Puckerman. But the rest of you…"

"May I offer a suggestion, Principal Figgins?"

"I'm not sure you're in the position to negotiate, Ms. Berry," he replies.

"Well," Rachel says, as if she didn't hear what Figgins just said. "I suggest that we clean this all up and then you and I can speak in your office."

"I hardly think that—"

"Do you really want to pay Tony and the others over time to come clean this up?" Rachel questions.

Figgins glares back at Rachel, hating how calm she is, despite the massive amount of trouble she's now in.

"Fine," he says. "Clean this up, but none of you are leaving."

Rachel nods. "You'll be in your office?"

Figgins nods.

"All right, guys," Rachel says. "Let's start by bringing all this back out to the cars. Mike, can you help Artie put the tennis ball launcher back?" Mike nods. He and Artie then begin pushing it out of the room. "Britt and Marisa, can you return the golf balls?" They both nod. "Okay, Tina and Santana, we'll start with all the other stuff. Noah, you can start with the plexiglass and then when Mike gets back, he'll help." Everyone nods and gets to work.

Rachel's surprised that no one says anything or even asks if Rachel has a plan. She wonders if that's because they believe she does or they're too afraid to ask; maybe both.

It doesn't take too long, especially considering that they have to take all the corn starch out to the dumpsters. Rachel finds herself impressed with their efficiency. She's willing to bet that the prank would have gone off without a hitch. She finds herself feeling a bit disappointed; after all this planning, she'd been somewhat excited to see the end result.

**…**

Despite Figgins' demands, Rachel tells everyone else to go home, even Santana. Her girlfriend protests, but finally agrees when Rachel reveals her plan needs for her to face Figgins alone. So Santana reluctantly catches a ride from Brittany, who agrees to drop Santana off at Rachel's.

Figgins' door is open when Rachel approaches it, so she enters and sits without a word. The principal doesn't say anything immediately, seemingly waiting. When no one else enters behind Rachel and it's obvious that no one is lingering in fear, Figgins speaks.

"And the others?"

"Oh, I sent them home."

"I believe I was quite clear about everyone staying," Figgins says with a grimace.

"You were," Rachel agrees. "But I didn't see the point."

"_You_ didn't see the point?"

"Well, seeing as how _I'm_ the prankster, I don't see the point in detaining anyone else," Rachel explains.

"The others were still involved," Figgins points out.

"Doesn't matter," Rachel replies. "The others are mere followers, puppets, minions, really. _I'm_ the one you want. I'm the instigator behind the schemes."

"While I'm willing to admit that you're both intelligent and manipulative, Ms. Berry," Figgins says. "Do you really expect me to believe that out of that whole group, which includes both Santana Lopez and Noah Puckerman in it, that _you're_ the mastermind behind it all?"

Rachel nods.

"_You're_ responsible for over fifty pranks over the last two school years?"

Rachel nods again.

"That doesn't mean that the others aren't going to be—"

"Actually, it does," Rachel says. "You're going to only punish me and let the others off with a warning and I won't fight your accusations."

"I caught you all red handed," Figgins points out. "Why would I need your cooperation?"

Rachel smirks. "You've been trying to catch the prankster for a long time. And even though you had me here, in your office, throwing accusations around, nothing came of it. We can certainly go back to that, if you prefer."

"Nothing you've said changes the fact that I caught you all _red handed_ in the act of pulling a prank," Figgins argues.

"Prove it."

"What?" Figgins is flabbergasted. "I'm the principal of this school, young lady. I don't have to prove it."

"Perhaps," Rachel replies. "Though what happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

"You were proven guilty when I caught you all _red handed_."

"Okay, but if you go after the others, I will be fighting for them, full on Rachel Berry mode. And it won't be pretty."

"Are you threatening me, Ms. Berry?"

"I would never dream of that, sir," Rachel replies, her expression going innocent. "I'm simply informing you of what my response to a possible situation would be."

"I see."

Figgins stares at Rachel, a contemplative look on his face. Rachel wonders if that's a good sign. She doesn't say anything, just does her best to return his stare and stay calm.

"Very well," Figgins says, finally. "Since they cleaned everything up and you claim sole responsibility, I won't consider any of them part of the prankster issue. However, tomorrow you and I will be talking more. And I will also be calling your fathers on this matter."

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"And just because it's after two in the morning, doesn't mean I don't expect you to be here tomorrow morning, on time, Ms. Berry."

"I wouldn't dream of being late, Principal Figgins," Rachel replies, smiling a bit too brightly.

"We'll discuss the consequences of your actions tomorrow then. You may go."

Rachel stands. "Good night, Principal Figgins." And then she turns and bounces out of the room.

Figgins is left staring after her, wondering how the hell she can be so laid back about the situation. Does she not realize that Figgins will most likely be suspending or possibly even expelling her in the morning?

Despite wanting to punish all those he stumbled onto tonight, he won't be. Figgins can admit that the thrill of finally catching and punishing the prankster will be enough to satisfy him. All he really cares about is stopping the pranks; punishing the perpetrator will just be a bonus for him.

**…**

Rachel's glad she turned off her cell phone because when she slides into her car, she pulls it out and turns it on to find four voicemails and eleven texts. Everyone sent a text, making sure Rachel was okay; there are also follow up ones offering support. Marisa's is full of thank yous; Mrs. Lawson would throw a fit if she ever found out. Next she checks her voicemail. The first voicemail is from Artie, full of apologies and guilt. The second is from Santana, upset that Rachel is trying to handle the whole thing by herself. The next voicemail is from Noah. It's full of reassurances, support and the word bro is said at a dozen times. The final one is from Brittany telling Rachel to take it easy on Figgins and not ruin him too much.

Sighing, Rachel starts her car and resolves herself to a sleepless night. After all, Santana's going to want to have a discussion about the situation, Rachel just knows it. She turns on the radio and enjoys the peace as she drives home, knowing her next few days will be filled with chaos.

**…**

Santana is pacing in the living room when Rachel arrives home.

"How bad is it?" Santana asks.

"It's nothing," Rachel replies, feeling more tired than she can afford to be.

"Nothing?" Santana questions. "Figgins is gonna annihilate you. He has to, to save face."

"I know," Rachel says.

"And yet you're not worried," Santana observes. "In fact, you seem almost calm."

Rachel gives an uncharacteristically causal shrug. "We're caught. It was bound to happen."

Santana eyes her girlfriend warily. "You're very calm. You've got to have a plan then."

Rachel smirks. "It's late. We should try to get a few hours of sleep. I have a feeling I'm going to need it tomorrow."

"Technically, babe, it's already tomorrow," Santana says, pointing at the clock.

"Whatever."

"So you're really not going to let me in on your plan?" Santana asks as they climb the stairs.

Rachel's response is a knowing chuckle.

**…**

The next morning, Rachel is up earlier than usual. She has a lot to accomplish and worrying about it wakes her sooner than she'd planned. Because despite how calm she was in front of Santana last night, Rachel can't truly relax until every aspect of her back up plan has fallen into place. Of course, the problem is that Rachel couldn't pursue the final piece until she was actually caught.

She performs her usual morning rituals of working out and an epic chorus in the shower, knowing the familiar routine will help keep her calm. Downstairs she makes herself a cup of coffee and leaves some out and ready for Santana when she comes down, which should be soon, before climbing into her car and driving to school.

Knowing that the element of surprise can only work to her advantage, Rachel enters McKinley the moment the doors are unlocked. She hurries through the halls to Coach Sylvester's office. The door is locked, but it's easily picked and Rachel slips inside.

She sits in one of the chairs in front of Coach Sylvester's desk, pulls out _The Fountainhead_ and begins reading.

**…**

Sue's door is open and her hackles are immediately up. There are only two likely reasons why her door is open and Sue, honestly, isn't sure which she prefers.

"Good morning Coach Sylvester."

Rachel Berry is sitting and apparently waiting for her.

"Berry," Sue replies, sitting at her desk. "To what do I owe this early morning disruption?"

"I need to call in the favor you still owe me," Berry says.

"For?"

"Principal Figgins caught myself and several others attempting to set up a prank late last night," Berry explains.

Sue is actually surprised by this.

"I know," Berry says. "I was, of course, prepared for such an occurrence, but wasn't sure if Figgins would ever be able to think that outside the box."

"Indeed," Sue agrees. "You learns something new every day."

"I was able to talk him down to holding me solely responsible," Berry continues. "We're supposed to discuss my punishment this morning."

"And you want me to get you out of this," Sue surmises.

Berry nods. "I can't have a suspension or worse on my record."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you started this."

"Considering how long it took to be caught," Berry says. "My banking on never being found out seems legitimate."

"I can't argue with that, I suppose," Sue concedes.

"So you'll help?" Berry asks.

"I will," Sue nods. "But your punishment will most likely involve manual labor that benefits me."

"I expected as much," Berry smirks. "And I'm not afraid of a little hard work."

"Figgins has to wait for a parent," Sue tells Berry. "So I'm not sure how long he'll make you sit in his office, but I'll have my spies let me know when one of your parental units arrive."

"Excellent," Berry says, standing. "Thank you Coach."

Sue nods. "I should have known that _this_ is what you'd use the favor for."

"A favor from you is a valuable thing, Coach," Berry replies. "It has to be used for just the right purpose."

"No need to explain, Berry," Sue says. "Now get the hell out of my office."

Berry nods again. "Thanks Coach." And then the door is clicking shut behind her.

Sue stares at the shut door for a moment. Well at least today won't be the usual boring Monday.

**…**

Michael Yellowhammer has already been working for an hour when he receives a call from his daughter's high school principal.

"_She what?!_"

Michael looks at his schedule for the day.

"I can be there at ten," Michael tells Figgins.

Hanging up the phone, Michael contemplates calling his husband. Jake is at a conference, so it's not like he'll be answering his cell. It'd probably be better to call after he has more information.

**…**

Santana wakes up alone and for a moment, believes she's at home in her own bed. Sitting up reminds her that she spent the night at Rachel's and got very little sleep. She listens for the sound of the shower running or Rachel downstairs making coffee, but the house is silent. Instead, Santana finds a folded note on the other pillow.

_Santana, Sorry I didn't wake you. I have some things to take care of, plus you looked like you needed the sleep. See you at school. Maybe. Otherwise, I'll text as soon as I know something substantial. Love, Rachel_

Great, so she's going to spend the whole day worrying.

**…**

Rachel is at her locker when she's approached by Figgins.

"Ms. Berry," he says. "I spoke to one of your fathers—"

"Which?"

Figgins sighs. "Michael."

Rachel nods.

"And he said he would be here at ten."

"So you want me to come to your office at ten?" Rachel asks. "Will I need a pass for that?"

"Actually," Figgins replies. "You'll be waiting for him in the main office."

"Are you going to start bragging that you finally caught the prankster?"

"The attitude is not in your best interest, Ms. Berry," Figgins warns.

"Noted, Principal Figgins."

"Once the bell rings, I expect you in the office, Ms. Berry."

"Of course, Principal Figgins."

**…**

Santana's worried. Just because Rachel claims that she has things under control, doesn't mean that things will actually work out according to plan. Plus Santana sometimes worries that Rachel's luck will run out eventually.

"Did Figgins suspend Rachel?" Artie asks, approaching Santana's locker. "I haven't seen her around."

"No idea," Santana replies. "I haven't seen her either. And her cell is off."

"This is all my fault," Artie says. "I just got caught up in it all. I didn't think about how much attention we'd be attracting."

Santana doesn't say anything, though she agrees. She's also surprised that Rachel didn't refuse to pull a group prank for that reason.

"He wouldn't expel her, would he?" Artie questions. "Not three months from graduation."

"Considering what an embarrassment the Prankster has been, anything's possible."

Both Artie and Santana turn to Mike who has just approached.

"Yeah, that's my fear too," Santana sighs.

"Why is her phone off?" Mike asks.

Santana shrugs.

"It's a bad sign," Artie says.

"Rach is a planner," Mike adds. "She'll be okay."

"Unless Figgins is so frustrated with her that he comes down hard," Artie replies. "Maybe we should go and be her character witnesses."

Santana shakes her head. "Rachel said to stay out of it, that too many people will make things worse."

"Figgins would probably punish us for even associating with the Prankster," Mike adds.

**…**

Michael arrives at McKinley High School earlier than he planned. When he steps inside and makes his way towards Principal Figgins' office, he sees Rachel sitting there, obviously waiting. She looks up as he approaches.

"Father."

"Daughter," he replies. "May I speak with you out in the hall?"

She nods and marks her spot in her book. He follows her out as she walks until she finds a secluded corner of the school.

"I apologize," she says. "That you had to be dragged into this. I have the situation under control."

"Under control?" Michael questions. "Figgins wants to expel you."

"I assumed as much," Rachel nods.

Michael can only stare at her in disbelief. "I really don't know you anymore."

"Well, high school is a period of change," Rachel replies.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Michael asks. "Did Lopez talk you into this?"

"Hardly," Rachel scoffs.

"We will be having a lengthy discussion after this," Michael warns.

"Principal Figgins will see you now."

Both Michael and Rachel look up to find Figgins' assistant in front of them. They both nod and follow her back to the office. Michael then follows Rachel into Figgins office and shuts the door.

"Mr. Yellowhammer," Figgins starts. "Thank you for coming."

Michael nods.

"Ms. Berry."

"Principal Figgins."

"I seem to remember you and I being in a very similar position last year."

Michael raises his eyebrows as he watches his daughter nod.

"And you sat right there and lied to my face," Figgins continues.

"Actually, I didn't," Rachel replies. "I actually just avoided answering the question."

The fact remains," Figgins scowls. "That you are the culprit of over fifty pranks over the last two years."

Michael just stars at Rachel in shock.

"Semantics," Rachel replies.

"Young lady, I'm not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation in which you find yourself."

"Are you sure that you're not making a mountain out of a mole hill?" Rachel counters.

"So your defense is that chaining the Cheerios to a gate, forcing us to cancel classes half a dozen times, putting up exploding piñatas or turning my office into a giant ball pit isn't a big deal?"

Rachel nods. "Though to be fair, the ball pit wasn't me."

"Flippancy will not help your case," Figgins informs her.

"Thankfully, I'm not trying to be flippant," Rachel replies.

"Despite your glibness, this is a serious matter, Ms. Berry," Figgins says. "And I _will_ be disciplining you as such."

Before he can continue, there's a knock on his door and then Coach Sylvester sticks her head into the room.

"Sue, now really isn't the time."

"I'm here to discuss Berry, actually," Sue replies.

Figgins seems confused. "Why?"

"I assume that you're giving her a month of detention?"

"Why would you assume that?" Figgins asks.

"Because anything more severe seems unnecessary," Sue tells him.

"Ms. Berry has cost us money and time, not to mention being a regular disruption to the school for almost two years."

"I'm not sure I see your point," Sue says.

"Feigning innocence is not the route to take," Figgins replies.

"I'm simply saying that suspending or expelling Berry would be a _grave_ mistake on your part," Sue warns.

"Sue, if you're attempting to threaten me…"

"You'll know when I'm threatening you."

Michael watches their attempt to outstare each other. It last longer than he expected. Finally Figgins blinks and then sighs. "I will take your _suggestion_ under advisement."

Sue nods. "Excellent."

"Now if you don't mind, Sue…"

"I'm going to stay actually. Just pretend like I'm not here."

"Easier said than done," Figgins mutters.

Sue smirks as she leans against the door.

"Ms. Berry," Figgins starts. "My first instinct was to expel you. As I said before you've cost us a great deal of time and money as we've dealt with the consequences of your actions. However, I am also aware that you're a senior, only a few months away from graduation and it seems cruel to expel you at this point, even if I feel that it would be justice—"

"Justice?" Michael questions. "What about the two years my daughter spent being slushied on an almost daily basis?"

"That is a totally different topic," Figgins replies. "Not to mention it's not an issue anymore."

"Through no assistance from you," Michael says.

"_Anyway_," Figgins says. "I am instead leaning towards a two week suspension for Ms. Berry."

"Two weeks?!"

"Please remain calm, Mr. Yellowhammer," Figgins says.

"Two weeks is absurd," Sue adds.

"I'm sorry," Figgins says. "But I don't believe that detention is a severe enough punishment. Even if it was daily for the rest of the year."

"One week," Michael counters.

"One week does seem more reasonable," Sue agrees.

"This is not a negotiation," Figgins replies.

Sue stands and approaches Figgins' desk. "Actually it is," she says as she leans on the desk. "Or rather, I'm here to tell you how it's going to be."

"Sue…"

Michael watches as another stare off is attempted. Figgins blinks first again and sighs. He then nods for Sue to continue.

"For you to save face," Sue says. "Berry will be suspended for one week. That way you can announce that you've both caught and punished the prankster. _However_, it will _not_ be going on Berry's permanent record."

"Sue, I hardly think that's—"

"No one has to know," Sue continues as if Figgins hadn't spoken. "Except those in this room."

"Sue…"

"Deny it all you want," Sue says. "But we both know this is the best solution. It gives both parties involved what they want."

"I do not care what Ms. Berry wants in this situation," Figgins replies. "She has broken so many rules—"

"I'm not sure why you're fighting this," Sue says. "Who are you trying to save face in front of? Berry? Her dad? Because I assure you that the level of respect they have for you hasn't changed since they walked in the room."

Michael raises an eyebrow at the insult, but stays quiet.

"Sue, I'm warning you…"

Sue leans in closer and lowers her voice. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"Very well," Figgins says finally, voice full of resignation. "Ms. Berry, you are suspended the rest of the week. However, it will not appear on your permanent record."

"Thank you Principal Figgins," Rachel says.

"But step out of line once over the next three months and not even Coach Sylvester will be able to save you," he continues. "Do we understand each other?"

Rachel nods.

"Very well. You may go to your locker if you need to, but after that, I do not want to see you for a week."

"Understood." Rachel stands.

"What guarantee do we have that this won't go on Rachel's permanent record?" Michael asks as he stands.

"Mine," Sue says. "Right, Figgins?"

Figgins sighs. "Correct, Sue."

"That's good enough for me," Rachel says.

Michael looks between the three of them, feeling almost helpless, because there's obviously something here that he's missing. He decides to trust Rachel's judgment because she has the most to gain and possibly lose from the situation.

"Let's go, Rachel," Michael says. He then follows her out of Figgins' office.

**…**

Santana's cell phone vibrates right before lunch.

_Things are mostly worked out. I'm going home to talk with daddy. I will call you later._

It's vague, but calm, so Santana tries not to let her worry grow. Though, honestly, Santana's more worried about how the talk with Michael's going to go. Even though he unsuccessfully tried to keep them apart last year, that doesn't mean that he won't attempt something similar again.

**…**

When Kurt sits down to lunch, he eagerly looks around for the others. The rumors are flying about the Prankster and he wants to compare notes.

"Did you hear?" Mercedes asks as she sits across from Kurt.

"Rumors are flying, though, so nothing solid."

Mercedes nods. "No one knows for sure yet, who the prankster is."

"We'll just have to wait and see who's suspended," Kurt says.

"Hey guys," Artie says as he joins them.

"Did you hear?" Kurt asks. "Figgins _finally_ caught the Prankster.

"Yeah," Artie replies. "I, uh, heard."

"Who do you think it is?" Mercedes asks.

"Uh…"

"Hey guys," Mike says, sitting next to Kurt.

"Mike. Wendy."

The Cheerio just nods as she sits.

"Hear anything about the Prankster?" Kurt asks them.

Wendy smirks, but keeps her head down, which catches Kurt's attention.

"What do you know?" he asks her.

She looks at him in surprise. "I've heard various stuff floating around. Who knows if it's true or not?"

"Someone _has_ to know," Kurt says.

The table's quiet when Quinn sits down next to Mercedes.

"So Berry finally got busted for being the prankster, huh?"

Kurt and Mercedes stare at Quinn in shock as Artie groans and Mike smirks.

"I'm sorry," Kurt manages. "Could you repeat that?"

Quinn looks towards Mike and Artie. "I mean, she was caught. So, it's not a secret anymore, right?"

"Huh," Kurt murmurs.

Artie shakes his head.

"You knew?" Mercedes asks.

Quinn nods. "Kinda just happened."

"Huh," Kurt mutters.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" Mercedes questions.

"Wasn't my secret to tell."

"When has that ever stopped any of us?" Mercedes asks.

Mike laughs.

"And risk Santana's wrath?" Quinn replies. "No thank you."

"You really expect me to believe that _Rachel Berry_ is the Prankster?" Kurt questions. "The _Prankster_ that's been pulling things at McKinley for almost _two years_?"

"Yep," Wendy giggles.

"Wait a minute," Mercedes says, turning to Wendy. "_You_ knew?"

Wendy nods.

"Someone pinch me," Kurt says. "Because I'm obviously not awake."

Mike reaches over, but is stopped by Kurt.

"It was a figure of speech."

"So you all knew?" Mercedes clarifies.

"Yep," Quinn replies.

"Anyone else?"

"A few others," Mike answers.

"Santana, of course," Kurt says, thinking out loud. "I'm assuming probably Puck and Brittany.

Artie nods.

"Anyone else?" Kurt asks.

"Just Tina," Artie says.

"And Coach Sylvester," Quinn offers.

"This must be what going crazy feels like," Kurt mumbles to himself.

"Yeah, I was a bit surprised too," Quinn agrees.

"I mean, I guess it makes sense," Kurt murmurs to himself. "Santana and Puck _are_ a bad influence."

"This is all my fault," Artie says.

"How is this _your_ fault?" Mercedes asks.

"Because pulling a group prank was my idea."

"You guys pulled a group prank?" Kurt asks.

"Well, we got caught before we could finish," Mike says.

"I think I need to go lay down."

"You're being a bit melodramatic, don't you think, Kurt?" Quinn asks.

"I just can't believe that _Finn_ was right," Kurt retorts.

Everyone, but Wendy groans.

"He's going to be insufferable now, isn't he?" Artie questions.

"Probably," Quinn agrees.

"Why do you guys all know?" Mercedes asks. "And not Kurt or me?"

"I guessed," Mike says.

"Me too," Artie adds.

"Artie told me on accident," Quinn says."

"Me too," Wendy throws out.

"I wonder where Puck and Santana are," Mercedes says. "I have so many questions."

"God, Lopez is going to be so annoying without Berry around," Quinn groans.

"As long as Britt's around," Mike says. "It should be fine."

"I hope so."

**…**

"So why are we hiding again?" Marisa asks.

"We're not hiding," Santana grumbles. "I just don't feel like being around those morons."

Brittany nods.

"Yeah," Puck adds. "Hummel would be all over us, asking about Rach being the prankster."

"So?"

"I'm just not in the mood."

"Do you think Rachel is okay?" Marisa asks.

"I'm sure she's in deep shit with her dads," Puck replies.

"I was afraid that Figgins was going to make Rachel pay the school back," Brittany says. "You know, cause all the pranks needed undoing."

"I think his joy over catching the prankster probably distracted him from that," Puck replies.

**…**

Over a simple lunch of sandwiches and fruit, Rachel and her daddy, sit in silence and avoid eye contact. Rachel knows a lecture and most likely yelling will eventually happen and she's grateful that they're eating first. Arguing is easier with proper nutrition.

They clean up in silence as well; which only takes a few moments, but the tension in the air is thick.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't ground you until graduation," Michael says as they sit back down at the table.

"How would you enforce it?" Rachel questions.

"I feel like the flippancy is still present."

"I'm just not sure why you'd be punishing me," Rachel replies. "I know you have no problem with the occasional juvenile hijinks."

"You call pulling over fifty pranks, juvenile hijinks?" Michael asks.

"Yes."

Michael examines her for a moment. "And I suppose that Santana has nothing to do with this? At all?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Not if you're trying to pin the blame on her."

"She's a bad influence over you," Michael insists.

"I respectfully disagree."

"You've been suspended for five days!"

"Which is not Santana's fault," Rachel replies.

"You really expect me to believe that Santana _isn't_ the reason you started all this?" Michael questions.

"Yes," Rachel says. "Besides, this has been going on for two years. Do you really think she's been pushing me this _entire_time?"

"Maybe not," Michael replies. "But I don't doubt that she planted the idea in your head and then _encouraged_ you for the past two years."

"Why are you so unwilling to place the blame solely on me?" Rachel asks. "Because no matter _whose_ idea it was initially, it was _me_ who came up with the idea of spraying slushies from the school sprinklers or flour bombing the teachers."

Michael stares at her.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I enjoyed the challenge?" Rachel questions. "That maybe there's a reason behind my motivation?"

"You mean besides arrogance?"

"I knew I'd be caught eventually," Rachel replies.

"And yet, you kept pulling pranks," Michael says.

"How else are people going to know it's me?" Rachel counters.

"Oh, so now you _wanted_ to get caught?"

Rachel nods. "Otherwise no one would believe it."

Michael can only stare at her in disbelief.

**…**

When Quinn finds Brittany at her locker at the end of the day, Santana is not by her side like Quinn expected.

"Lopez in the bathroom crying over Berry?"

Marisa, who Quinn hadn't seen right away, looks pained at Quinn's comment.

"She went to check on Rach," Brittany replies.

"I'm sure Berry's fine," Quinn says.

"Santana just wants to make sure."

There's a tone in Brittany's voice that Quinn doesn't want to analyze. "So surprisingly I haven't heard Berry's name whispered throughout the halls."

"I don't think that many people know yet," Marisa says.

"I told Kurt and Mercedes at lunch," Quinn replies. "I thought for sure that that would get the rumors flying."

"They were probably in too much shock," Marisa says.

"I don't meant to sound rude, Quinn," Brittany says. "But why would you tell them?"

"Because they were talking about it at lunch," Quinn replies. "What's the big deal?"

Brittany shrugs. "If Figgins wanted to keep things quiet, he could react harshly if he thinks Rachel's out here bragging."

"Well then he's an idiot, since she's not even here today."

**…**

When the doorbell rings, Rachel lets out a sigh of relief. It feels like she's been arguing with her daddy about this for hours.

Rachel's surprised to find Santana at the door. It must be later than she thought.

"Please tell me that you didn't skip," Rachel says.

Santana shakes her head. "But I am skipping Cheerios."

"I'm not sure now is the best time," Rachel says.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay," Santana replies.

"Daddy and I are still talking," Rachel informs her.

"Seriously? Still?"

"Who's at the door, Rachel?"

"You should go," Rachel hisses.

"Of course."

Both Santana and Rachel turn to find Michael standing behind Rachel.

"I should have known that you'd show up eventually," he says.

"I just wanted to make sure Rach is okay, sir," Santana replies.

"She's fine, considering that this is all your fault."

"Daddy," Rachel says. "I told you. Santana—"

"I don't want to hear it, Rachel."

"Then we seem to me at an impasse, daddy," Rachel replies. "We've been arguing in circles for two hours."

"We wouldn't have this problem if you would just realize that she's dragging you down, Rach."

"I don't know how many times I have to say this, daddy," Rachel replies. "But Santana is _not_ the problem."

Michael just stares at them both for a long moment before saying," Fine. You're right. Neither of us will _ever_ bend on this. We should just agree to disagree."

"Works for me."

"And," Michael continues. "Maybe I should stop trying to parent you."

"What?"

"Last year when you refused my advice—"

"You mean, your demand?" Rachel interrupts.

"I said I was done then," Michael continues. "But I thought suspension was serious enough to warrant my involvement. Apparently not."

"Daddy…"

"We're never going to see eye to eye on this," Michael says. "I think your dad should be the main contact from now on. It's probably better for all of us."

Rachel can only nod.

"I'll be in my office," he says. "Though I must say I am surprised that Santana is still around."

"Maybe you could finally start to believe in our relationship," Rachel says.

"Hardly," Michael replies. "I simply _meant_ that I was impressed that Santana has been able to keep the lie up."

Rachel's response is interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Surprisingly, Michael is the one who answers it.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh, is Rachel here?"

"Just a moment." Michael turns to Rachel. "I'll be in the study."

Rachel nods as she approaches the door.

"Hey Rach," Artie greets. "I was worried that you wouldn't be allowed visitors."

"Apparently not," Rachel replies.

"Look Rachel," Artie starts. "I wanted to apologize. I feel like this is all my fault."

Standing behind Rachel, Santana scoffs.

"While I appreciate that Artie," Rachel replies. "I personally don't feel like that's true."

"If we hadn't done a big group prank—"

"Artie," Rachel interrupts. "I knew the risks."

"And the fact that you took all the blame," Artie continues.

"And all the glory," Santana offers.

"Either way," Rachel says. "Everything worked out."

"But you're suspended."

"Better than expelled," Rachel points out.

"You really don't blame me?" Artie asks. "Because I don't want to get on your bad side."

Rachel chuckles. "I'm sure. But I appreciate the sentiment."

"It's self preservation, babe," Santana quips.

"So what happened exactly?" Artie asks.

"I'm suspended," Rachel replies. "The rest of the week."

"Ouch."

"She seems okay with it," Santana says.

"While I don't relish missing so much school, I'm not worried," Rachel replies.

"Plus it's probably better this way," Santana offers. "When everyone finally learns who the prankster is, it's going to be ridiculous."

"Yeah," Artie agrees. "It's probably better that you're not going to be there."

"I was actually thinking the same thing," Rachel says.

"Anyway, I should go," Artie says. "I told my mom that I'd stop by the store for her on my way home. But we're good, Rach?"

Rachel nods. "We're good Artie."

"I suppose I better go too," Santana says as Artie heads towards his car. "As your daddy's least favorite person, it would probably be better for everyone if I didn't hang around. Call you later?"

Rachel nods and gives Santana a brief kiss, mindful of the fact that her daddy could pop out any minute. She watches Santana walk to her car and waves as she drives away. Closing the front door, Rachel heads up to her room so she can plan out her week of suspension.

**…**

Despite, for once, not being alone in her house, Rachel makes herself an early dinner and eats it quietly at the kitchen table. She considers asking her daddy if he wants anything, but she figures he's an adult and can take care of himself.

Back in her room, she does her homework. She knows Santana and Noah would mock her for doing her homework when she's suspended, but there's a reason why she asked every teacher for their lesson plan at the beginning of the year. She knows most in her situation would see a week of suspension as a vacation, but Rachel doesn't want to stop her routine.

She's just finishing a history essay that's supposed to be due in a week when her cell phone rings. It's her dad and Rachel immediately wonders if he's calling to defend daddy or to try and rebuke her since she still actually listens to him.

"So Michael tells me you've been suspended," her dad says eventually. "For an entire week. And that you've been pulling pranks for the last two years."

"I have."

There's a long pause before her dad responds. "And there's nothing you'd like to add? Perhaps speak in your defense? You're usually rather effusive about such things."

"For once, I have nothing to add," Rachel replies. "Nothing I say is going to change things."

Her dad sighs. "Look, honey, I know trying to convince Michael is a futile activity, but that doesn't mean that I've already made up my mind about the situation."

"I'm pleased to hear that dad," Rachel says. "However, it honestly doesn't matter."

"Just because the two of you don't see eye to eye, doesn't mean that you have to cut us both out, Rachel."

"Why?" Rachel asks. "Are you going to take my side?"

"I honestly don't know honey," he replies.

"Well, at least you're honest." Rachel expects her dad to sigh loudly and give up on her, but he surprises her.

"The thing is," he starts. "I realize that Michael's not being fair to you, especially considering the reasons behind it."

"What exactly is his problem with Santana?"

Her dad sighs again. "She reminds him of himself when he was your age. He was the self hating jock who bullied people to feel better about himself. The difference is, he didn't meet someone who loved him in spite of all that, thus giving him a reason to reform."

"Oh."

"Michael matured a lot in college," he continues. "I've only heard stories, but it's definitely true."

"So he's upset that Santana got her second chance sooner? Or that I'm the one providing it?"

"A little of both, honestly."

"What am I supposed to do then?" Rachel asks. "And that can't be all."

"No, it's not," her dad agrees. "He also really does believe all those things he's saying. He really does worry that she'll stop you from achieving your dreams."

"Why? Santana is incredibly smart and ridiculously ambitious. What could she want that would hold me back?"

"I really don't know, honey. It's just what he believes."

"So it really is a stalemate," Rachel mutters.

"We just need to give him some time," he says.

"You don't think the past year is enough?" Rachel questions.

"I consider him pretending that she doesn't exist progress," her dad replies.

"Denial is not progress."

"I know, but maybe it'll give him enough emotional distance that he'll be willing to have a civil conversation."

"I guess anything's possible," Rachel says.

**…**

When Santana arrives at McKinley on Tuesday, the rumors of who the Prankster is are flying. Even though Quinn spilled the beans about Rachel yesterday at lunch, Santana's pretty sure that most people either don't believe it or haven't heard it yet. She and Britt have a bet on how long it will be before the whole school knows.

Santana can feel people's eyes on her and she wonders if it's because they think _she's_ the Prankster or because they know it's Rach.

**…**

"I'm surprised Kurt isn't here interrogating us," Tina says at lunch.

"Maybe his head exploded," Mike suggests. "He did seem pretty shocked yesterday."

"Leave it to Quinn to just blurt it out," Tina retorts.

"She's Quinn Fabray," Artie replies. "She can do whatever the hell she wants."

"That's for damn sure," Wendy mutters.

Brittany giggles. "I don't think Kurt would have believed it otherwise."

"Even if Rach had been the one to tell him?" Marisa asks.

Brittany nods. "He'd probably think she was doing it to distract everyone from San."

**…**

Will is still in shock as he sits down across from Emma for lunch. It's obvious that she's heard, judging by the slightly too wide smile she's wearing.

"Who did you hear it from?"

"Becky," Emma replies. "I think Sue told her to tell me. You?"

"Finn told me, actually," Will replies. "He's been saying it's Rachel for over a year now. I think he's just glad to finally be right."

"That's, uh... Finn, really?"

Will nods. "I'm not sure the world makes sense anymore. I mean, Rachel's a delinquent and Finn... well, anyway."

"Certainly a more _interesting_ world."

"I suppose you're pleased," Will says.

"Quite, actually," Sue replies. "But not for the reasons your fluffy head is imagining."

"Why?" Emma asks.

"Because I was proven right about Berry," Sue tells them. "And it gained me an ally and you a foe. God, I love every part of that sentence."

"And the ally you gained is... Rachel Berry?" Emma asks.

"Indeed," Sue replies. "I can admit now that I underestimated the midget. She's going places and not just because she's one of the few of your rejects that can actually sing."

"How long have you known?" Will asks.

Sue grins and Will is afraid.

"I'm surprised that you would keep Rachel's secret," Emma observes. "After all, taking down Rachel would in turn hurt glee."

"Perhaps," Sue nods. "But this whole situation has been so entertaining; plus I do enjoy lording information over William here."

"Sue..."

"Don't even, William," Sue replies. "_I_ supported Berry. You just tried to trick her into confessing. Unlike you, my loyalty isn't something so easily tossed aside."

"I can't tell if you really believe that," Will says. "Or if you just enjoy messing with me."

"Why can't it be both?"

**…**

Deciding to use her unexpected free time wisely, Rachel decides to make two separate life plans; one that includes staying with Santana after graduation and one that doesn't. Even though the thought of breaking up with Santana physically hurts to think about, Rachel knows it has to be considered. They both want too much in life to let their relationship get in the way and Rachel fears that while staying with Santana may lead to immediate and continued happiness, it's doomed in the long run.

Even though the decision has been floating around in her head for months, Rachel's mostly only given it a cursory thought. Her suspension means she no longer has the excuse of no time. And so, Rachel pulls out a notebook and begins to create two entirely different life plans.

**…**

Santana is _really_ not in the mood for glee this afternoon. Having to deal with Hudson's joy at being right or Mr. Schue's confusion or even Kurt's endless questions sounds like something too painful to endure without Rachel. This makes the fact that she and Britt are the first ones to arrive even more surprising. Santana shakes her head at herself. Rachel will be pleased to know that Brittany still has plenty of pull over Santana.

To her immense relief, Mike shows up next, then Quinn and then the others straggle in one at a time, except for Finn who arrives last.

He stands in front of the room looking smug. "I freaking _told_ you guys it was Rachel, but no one believed me."

"Big deal," Puck says from behind Santana. "You were right _once_. Law of averages."

This earns a laugh from the entire room.

"_Hey_," Finn says. "I've been right before."

"Yeah, but spelling both your first and last name correctly on a test doesn't count," Santana snarks.

"Yeah, you're both _real_ funny," Finn replies. "But I'm still right and now everyone _knows_ that Rach is the Prankster."

"And now we have proof that she really is cooler than you Finn," Brittany speaks up.

"You know what? I've had it with you guys—"

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schuester says, entering the room. "Who's ready to get started?"

Kurt's hand shoots up. "Mr. Schue?"

"Yes Kurt?"

"I know it's a bit... off topic, but I think a discussion about the Prankster would really bring us all together."

Santana, Brittany, and Puck all groan. The others don't look all that eager either.

"Kurt," Mr. Schue starts. "I understand that the identity of the Prankster is big news, but I'm sure that you can find another time to talk it out."

"But Mr. Schue," Kurt continues. "The Prankster is one of us. We need to talk about the implications, the camaraderie it brought, the—"

"Kurt."

"Oh just let him flail from five minutes, Mr. Schue," Puck speaks up. "Otherwise we'll never get any peace."

Mr. Schue sighs. "Fine. Kurt, you have the floor."

"Thank you, Mr. Schue." Kurt jumps up with a grin.

Santana lets out a loud groan.

"Since apparently _everyone else_ knew that Rachel was the Prankster," Kurt starts. "I have a few questions that need to be answered."

"No one's stopping you," Puck retorts.

"But considering Rach is the one with all the answers, I'm not sure what the point is," Mike adds.

"The point is that you guys were _involved_. Some more than others. And that means you guys have to have _some_answers."

"Just let him ask his damn questions," Santana says.

Kurt looks shocked. "Thank you Santana."

"Because the sooner this is over, the better."

"Well, yes, there's that," Kurt agrees. "My first question is, has Rachel really been the Prankster this whole time?"

"As opposed to what?" Brittany asks.

Kurt does a double take before replying. "Meaning that maybe Puck or Santana pulled the first couple and then when Rachel the Planner stepped in, it became a brand new game, so to speak."

"Believe what you want, Hummel," Puck says. "But it's been my bro since the beginning. With a little help here and there, of course."

"Of course."

"Is that it Kurt?" Mr. Schue asks.

"My next question," Kurt says. "Who came up with the prank ideas?"

Santana sighs. "Rach mostly."

"Rachel came up with _all_ of them?"

"Don't be silly," Brittany says. "Course not. But she did come up with most of them. But if someone else thought of something they wanted to do, Rach tried to figure out if it was possible and if it was, we did it."

"So you're saying some of the pranks were _your_ idea?"

Brittany nods. "A few."

"And then what? Some were Puck's or Santana's?"

They both nod.

"Huh."

Mercedes leads Kurt back to his seat as he sinks into it.

Artie raises his hand. "Which ones were your ideas, Britt?"

"Um... the pond I think," Brittany replies. "Oooh, and painting the orange line."

"That was _you_?" Finn asks.

"And so asks the only idiot who was fooled by it," Santana says.

"Shut up, Lopez."

"Is that all your questions, Kurt?"

"I just... Just please tell me that it took more than one person to pull off the castle."

"Oh yeah," Puck grins. "That was a four m—uh, person operation."

Okay, so if that's all..." Mr. Schue waits a moment, but Kurt seems quiet for the moment. "Let's do some singing."

**…**

It takes more convincing that Santana wants to put forth to convince the others that a surprise group visit to Rachel's might not be the best idea. It's not that she thinks Rachel won't appreciate it, though Santana's still not sure what to think about Kurt; it's more that she's not entirely sure what the situation is with Rachel and her dads.

When she's a block away, she sends Rachel a text asking if it's okay to come over.

_Of course it is, Santana. Please do. I've been alone all day and I miss you._

Well that answers that. Santana really don't understand Rachel's dads. She supposes she shouldn't complain. In most other scenarios, she wouldn't be allowed to still see Rachel. The fact that Rachel's dads are hypocritical and judgmental definitely works in her favor.

Though there is a part of her that wishes Rachel had different, better dads; the parents that Santana believes Rachel deserves. Even if it meant they couldn't be together.

But that's not really possible, so Santana just hopes that one day they'll come around.

**…**

"I can't believe that you knew and didn't tell me."

Wendy rolls her eyes as Missy actually whips her shirt into her locker in anger. It makes her wonder if she'll treat her Cheerios' uniform like that after practice. Coach would not be pleased. Then again, Missy probably doesn't care since she's been sulking ever since she picked Wendy up for morning Cheerios' practice.

"I'm sorry Mis," Wendy says. "But I couldn't."

"Just when I was actually thinking of giving up on her," Missy murmurs. "She has to do something like this and make herself even more attractive."

Wendy sighs. "Give it up, already Missy."

"You got who you wanted, Wendy," Missy replies. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because who I wanted, wasn't dating anyone at the time," Wendy says.

"Stupid rules," Missy grumbles.

**…**

Walking by Coach Sylvester's office, Kurt sees Becky exiting.

"Hey Becky."

"Hi Kurt."

"Can I ask you a question?" Kurt asks as he starts walking with Becky. He knows better than to slow her down when she's on a mission for Coach Sylvester.

"I guess."

"I don't suppose you know how long the Coach as known that Rachel Berry is the Prankster."

"Um..."

"Because I'm just curious," Kurt continues. "Apparently _everyone_ knew and I'm just trying to figure out how it got past me."

"Wait," Becky says. "So you didn't know?"

Kurt shakes his head.

"Interesting."

Wanting to be polite, Kurt asks, "When did you find out?"

"I figured it out over the summer," Becky replies.

Kurt actually stops walking and just stares at Becky. After a few steps, she stops and turns to face him.

"Really?" Becky questions, rolling her eyes.

"I've just never felt more out of the loop before."

"Well cheer up, Kurt," Becky says as she starts walking again, leaving him behind. "At least you know now."

**…**

By Wednesday, there's no one at McKinley that doesn't know that Rachel is the Prankster. And they all have an opinion about it.

Santana is almost constantly confronted in the halls; either by someone who wants to congratulate Rachel and call her a genius or by someone who felt violated by a prank and still hasn't gotten over it. The latter is definitely in the minority, but it makes Santana a bit concerned. Maybe Rach should have an escort the first couple days.

**…**

Because everyone knows that Puck is bros with Rachel, he's approached a lot the rest of the week and asked about her being the Prankster. He really does try and give Rach most of the credit because Santana would kick his ass otherwise, but mostly because he really believes that his bro deserves the credit. The fact that all the girls that approach him seem to find it really hot that he's so supportive of Rachel is just a bonus.

**…**

The rest of the week passes too slowly for Santana. She splits her time between worrying about Rachel's reception when she returns, being annoyed that she's barely seen her girlfriend, being thoroughly irritated by Hudson's haughtiness and wanting to strangle Kurt because he still can't seem to wrap his head around Rachel being the prankster.

**…**

Rachel manages to accomplish quite a bit in just four days; not that she's surprised, just pleased. The biggest accomplishment is cleaning out her room. Even though she knows that when she leaves for college in several months, she won't be leaving for good, Rachel also doesn't want to _have_ to come back if she doesn't want to. She has a feeling that things will never really return to how they were between her and her dads. And while she's relieved that she doesn't have to pretend that everything is fine and dandy, Rachel also mourns the loss of her dads; or at least the closer relationship she almost believed they had. She knows admitting that also means admitting how long she's been lying to herself about the relationship as a whole. And while the mature adult she's yearning to be mostly accepts that, the little girl that she's not sure she ever got to be is heartbroken.

This also reminds Rachel that too much time alone makes her very introspective.

**…**

Friday bro night is like any other night, even if their activity choices have decreased.

"It's too bad you got caught, bro," Noah says as he opens another beer.

"I agree, Noah," Rachel replies. "But for what reason, specifically, were you referring?"

The activity for the night is video games. Noah brought over his console and is trying to teach Rachel how to play various shooter games.

Noah sighs and pauses the game, looking almost apologetic. "I'd been kinda hoping for a absurd and possibly large graduation prank."

"You could still pull one," Rachel tells him.

"I can't actually," Noah replies.

"And why is that?"

"Because no one would ever believe that you weren't behind it," he says. "And knowing Figgins, he wouldn't let you graduate."

"Thanks Noah."

"Plus, we both know that you're the brains of this operation," he says as he unpauses the game and returns his attention to the screen. "And that anything I come up with would either be a complete let down or impossible to pull off."

Rachel smirks. "There's a compliment in there somewhere."

Noah grins back and bumps her with his shoulder. "Never change, Rach."

"I love you too, Noah."

**…**

"I've been hearing some interesting rumors about you, Rachel."

"Such as?"

It's Sunday night making both Rachel and Santana are relieved that Sunday night dinner is still a regular occurrence. Not that there was a chance of it being canceled, but Santana had been a little worried that _if_ her parents heard about Rachel being the Prankster, which is a possibility since Lima is such a small town, that maybe they wouldn't want to associate with Rachel anymore.

"The talk of the town this week is that _you_ apparently are the notorious prankster at McKinley," Tomás replies.

"Yes, well, good news travels quickly, doesn't it?"

"Are you saying it's true?"

"I am, Clara."

This statement is met with silence and Rachel worries about their reactions. The fact that she's more worried about their disapproval than about her daddy's condemnation isn't lost on her.

"How were you not expelled?" Tomás asks.

Rachel smiles. "I wish I could tell you. But if I do, well, then I'll probably be in even more trouble."

"Please tell me you didn't blackmail anyone," Clara says.

"If you did," Tomás interjects. "Lie to Clara and tell me about it later."

"_Papa_."

"No Tomás," Rachel replies. "_I_ didn't blackmail anyone."

"Does that mean—"

"Tomás," Rachel interrupts. "I really can't talk about it." Rachel turns to Clara. "And it's not as bad as it seems. I promise."

"Thank you dear," Clara replies. "I'm starting to think it's better if I don't know."

"Plausible deniability," Santana mutters.

"In we weren't in Lima, I'd worry that you were part of the mob or something," Tomás comments.

Rachel glares at Santana. "What have you been telling him?"

Santana holds her hands up in defense. "I'm not the one calling in favors and being all mysterious."

Rachel sighs. "I promise it's nothing illegal. I just know the politics of McKinley and took advantage of the situation, I guess."

"I've honestly never been quite sure about Figgins," Clara says.

"I suppose he means well," Rachel replies. "But he's got a lot working against him."

"Like troublemakers who constantly prank his school," Tomás chuckles.

"I'm not sure I would use the word, constantly," Rachel hedges.

"So when is your suspension over, dear?" Clara asks.

"I return to McKinley tomorrow," Rachel answers.

"Should be interesting," Tomás says.

"I hope not," Santana adds.

"What makes you say that?" Clara asks.

"Because everyone in that school sucks," Santana retorts. "And I really don't know if they're going to validate or vilify Rach."

"An excellent point," Tomás agrees. "You don't seem as concerned, Rachel."

"Santana's concerned enough for both of us," Rachel replies. "And one of us has to remain composed."

Clara stares at Rachel for a moment before asking, "Are you sure you're only seventeen?"

**…**

Rachel can only admit it to Santana; and Brittany, but only because she guesses it, but she's a bit nervous about returning to McKinley. She knows from personal experience that the students of her high school are cruel, creative creatures.

"The same could be said about you, Rachy," Brittany says.

"You consider me cruel?" Rachel asks.

"Well... not exactly," Brittany replies. "More like, you've been treated pretty bad and your retaliation reflects that."

"That's much more poetic than I would have put it," Rachel says.

"Britt's always had a way with words," Santana adds.

"But you have nothing to worry about Rachy," Brittany says. "Me and S will protect you."

"Thanks Britt."

"Plus there's Mike and Quinn and Puck."

Rachel wasn't expecting that. "Quinn really?"

Brittany nods.

"Because of Alyson?"

"Partly," Brittany replies. "But probably mostly because Coach Sylvester loves you."

Rachel nods in relief. "That makes sense."

"Shall we babe?" Santana asks, offering her arm.

Rachel smiles sweetly as she hooks their arms together. "Lead on, San."

**…**

The first big difference is that _everyone_ greets Rachel in the hallway. Flanked by Santana and Brittany, Rachel can feel how tense both Cheerios are, which in turn, helps Rachel stay calm. That doesn't meant that Rachel isn't a bit unnerved by all the attention. While she usually welcomes it from any sort of audience, Rachel has never been quite sure about her peers; like she said, they are a malicious and judgmental bunch.

However, it seems like most of the students support her; either because she got classes cancelled or for simply messing with the administration. Almost everyone Rachel encounters has something to say about why they approve of the Prankster.

It's enough for Santana to let her guard down a bit and relish Rachel's enjoyment of her notoriety.

**…**

There are some days that Puck wishes he did better in school. If he did, maybe he'd be in more classes with Rachel and could watch out for her. Santana's decided that someone with social clout should be Rachel at all times, just in case any of their idiotic classmates want revenge. He'd been surprised when Quinn agreed with Santana, saying that some people weren't happy. He would have figured everyone would have enjoyed the extra days off. Then again, maybe locking everyone_inside_ the school wasn't the best idea.

So he, Mike, Quinn, Britt or Santana will walk with Rachel in the halls for the rest of the week. It's a job that he takes seriously, he just wishes he could help out more.

**…**

To Rachel's complete annoyance, she's almost immediately pulled out of first period by Ms. Pillsbury.

"I just wanted to check in with you," Ms. Pillsbury explains. "You know, after your, um, suspension."

"I'm fine," Rachel replies.

"There's nothing you need to talk about? Maybe about being discovered, or even what drove you to become the prankster?"

"Maybe I could just have a brochure and go back to class," Rachel suggests.

Ms. Pillsbury looks briefly over her shoulder before saying, "Oh, well, I sincerely doubt I have a brochure for... any of this." She begins wringing her hands. "Are you sure there's nothing you need to discuss?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm fine, Ms. Pillsbury."

"All right, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury says. "You may return to class, but please remember my door is always open."

"Of course," Rachel replies, standing. "Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury."

**…**

Rachel's only taken a few steps down the hall before she finds Greg Sanderson standing in front of her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm returning to class," Rachel replies.

"We need to talk."

"Why on earth would that be true?" Rachel scoffs.

"Quite a few of us have been just waiting to find out who the Prankster is," Greg replies.

"Again, why?"

"You did some pretty shitty shit to us," Greg growls.

"Shitty shit? Really?"

"So it's payback time," Greg says.

Rachel tries not to let her nervousness show. "You're not worrying about Santana finding out?"

Greg scoffs. "Lopez thinks just because she's managed to dyke up a few hot chicks, she's hot shit. I'm not scared of her."

"What about Coach Sylvester?" Rachel tries.

"What? Is she going to beat me with all her trophies?"

"At least _she_ actually wins things," Rachel can't help but retort.

His response is a back handed slap. It's completely unexpected and has enough force to make Rachel stumble slightly; only her superior balance and pride keeps her from falling backwards.

Greg chuckles cruelly.

Tears in her eyes, Rachel glares at him and clenches her fists, so he can't see her hands shaking as she straightens.

"Well that was unexpected," Greg smirks. "Lopez smack you around a lot?"

"Do you really think I'm not going to speak to the administration about this, Greg?"

"Oh, so you know my name now?"

"What exactly was your plan here?" Rachel continues. "Because if you think for one second that I'm not going to report you, then you really are dumber than you look."

Growling, Greg takes a menacing step forward.

Rachel swallows nervously. "Also, I'm not afraid of you."

Greg grins. "Then _you're_ dumber than you look."

**…**

Even though Rachel is safely ensconced in class, Santana's still worried. First period is the only class Rachel doesn't share with her or Britt or Quinn or Puck or Mike. Yes, Mike's first period class is right next to Rach's, so he'll be there to walk her right after class, but Santana can't help but worry.

**…**

As the kids take a surprise quiz, Will's eyes fall on Kurt, and he can't help but remember that Rachel is back at McKinley. Ever since he learned that she's the Prankster, Will's been wondering if Rachel is also the one who has been dumping slushies on him. They've never quite gotten along and he blames himself equally with Rachel on that, but he just can't figure out what he's done that's so horrible to make her want to retaliate like that.

Maybe he should try and talk to her today after class. Rachel's in his last period Spanish, so they'd have the proper time to talk with having to worry about the next period or getting to glee. Perhaps they can finally have the heart to heart he's always wanted.

**…**

Rachel refuses to flinch as Greg takes another step closer. She hopes he's going for terror over actual violence, but she's doubtful. For some reason, she'd rather face him than run. Even if it ends badly, standing up for herself may stop something like this from happening again. Taking a deep breath, Rachel's stance becomes defensive.

Greg begins laughing, which Rachel understands. As captain of the basketball team, Greg stands over six feet tall. Rachel is not an opposing figure in comparison; still she knows how to defend herself and so she ignores his mocking laughter.

Seeing that Rachel still hasn't back down, Greg's expression sobers and he slowly clenches his fist.

"_Hey_!"

Both Greg looks over his shoulder as Rachel stretches to see who spoke.

"Get the hell away from her."

Rachel's a bit shocked to see Tony the head janitor standing there. He makes an opposing figure, even if he's shorter than Greg, who backs up slightly.

"We were just talking," Greg says, smiling widely.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"It's not of your damn business, anyway, old man," Greg replies.

Tony sighs. "Kid, I don't have time for your pathetic attempt at threats, so just back away."

Greg takes a step back. "Whatever. What are you going to do? Follow her around?"

"Don't be stupid," Tony retorts. "I'm simply going to tell Coach Sylvester about the situation. And then if anything happens to Ms. Berry, you'll have to answer to her."

"Like I'm afraid of a super bitchy cheerleading coach," Greg scoffs.

"Well what about the Cheerio that broke your leg and jaw?" Tony asks. "Are you afraid of her? Because I'm sure she'll be upset. I wonder what she'll do..."

Rachel watches Greg swallow slowly.

"So why don't you do us all a favor," Tony continues. "And leave Ms. Berry alone. From now on."

Greg closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths as he shakes slightly in anger. Opening his eyes, he nods. "Fine." He backs away from Rachel and skulks down the hall.

Once he's out of sight, Rachel lets out a sigh of relief.

"You okay?"

Rachel nods.

"Good. Let's go get you some ice for that cheek."

**…**

Spying Quinn and Rachel sitting together at lunch is surprising to Kurt, but it doesn't stop him from dragging Mercedes over to the table and sitting down.

"Ladies," he says sitting.

Quinn, for some reason, rolls her eyes.

"Hi Kurt."

"How are _things_?" Kurt asks.

"Fine," Rachel replies. "And you?"

"Fine as well," Kurt says. "So your day's going fine?"

"Just ask your damn questions, Hummel," Quinn growls.

"What's got you all pissy?" Mercedes asks.

"What's your question Kurt?" Rachel interjects.

Kurt's curiosity is piqued by Rachel's sudden outburst. He'd been under the impression that she wasn't all that eager to talk about being the Prankster. But he can only handle one interrogation at a time and he's been waiting for a week to talk to Rachel about this. Santana had threatened horrendous things if he'd gone to her house for gossip and so Kurt had abided.

"How the hell did you not get expelled?" Kurt asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "Can't say."

"Nothing? Not even if it's because of some old obscure rule that you found somewhere?" Kurt asks.

"Even then," Rachel confirms.

Kurt is actively staring at Rachel. "I just can't quite..."

Rachel sighs. "Yes Kurt?"

"Sorry Rach," Kurt replies. "I seem to be having a hard time accepting the fact that you're the Prankster."

"Why?

"I don't know," he says. "I guess I just never knew that you had it in you."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Welcome back," Artie says, joining them.

"Thanks Artie." Rachel turns to Mercedes. "Are you having... similar issues?"

"Not exactly," she replies. "But it is weird. Or at least super unexpected."

"I guess."

"Hey guys."

Mike and Wendy suddenly appear and sit next to Rachel.

"Welcome back, Rachel," Wendy says.

"Thanks."

"Is it weird being back?" Mike asks.

"It's only been a week, Mike," Rachel replies.

"So that's a no?"

**…**

Mike is Rachel's escort to the next class, so she, he and Wendy leave the lunch room together.

"Rach, wait up!"

When the three of them turn around, they see Finn hurrying towards them.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" he asks.

Mike looks at Rachel who nods, so he and Wendy step aside as Finn steps closer.

"Hello Finn."

"Hi Rach."

Rachel waits a moment before saying, "So you had a question?"

"Not exactly," Finn replies. "Were you _ever_ going to tell me?"

Rachel considers playing dumb, but doesn't want to prolong the conversation, so she shakes her head.

"Why not?" Finn whines.

"The fewer people that knew, the better," Rachel answers, even if that's not the reason.

"But Quinn and Artie and Tina and Mike and his Cheerio girlfriend knew," Finn points out.

"And not long after that, I was found out," Rachel retorts.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Is that all?" Rachel asks, a bit impatient.

Finn looks past Rachel at Mike, who Rachel assumes is shooting daggers at him, based on Finn's hurt and slightly confused expression.

"Uh, yeah," he says. "That's all."

"Very well." Rachel rejoins Mike and Wendy and they continue their journey to Mike's locker.

**…**

As Rachel is following Noah out of last period Spanish, she's stopped by Mr. Schuester.

"Can we talk for a moment, Rachel?"

Sighing, Rachel nods, tugging slightly on Noah to get his attention.

Noah scoffs which he tries to cover with a cough when Rachel explains, but he agrees to wait just outside the room.

Rachel remains standing because Mr. Schue does. She's even more glad of her decision when he begins to pace slightly.

"I admit," he says, eventually. "That I was utterly shocked to learn that you're the Prankster." He sighs. "Though... I probably shouldn't have been."

Rachel's not sure how to respond to that.

"I just wish I could understand _why_ you would do all that."

Every response that Rachel has sounds _incredibly_ sarcastic in her head and so she remains quiet.

"I mean things have vastly improved around here the past couple years."

Rachel has to mentally restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

Mr. Schue finally stops his pacing and looks at Rachel. "Who or what exactly were you attacking?"

Rachel wonders why she's still surprised by Mr. Schue's audacity; she should really have seen it coming.

"Is that all you wanted to ask?" Rachel questions.

He, of course, looks hurt by her avoidance of the question.

"No actually," he replies. "Someone has been randomly slushieing me. I was curious if it was you."

Rachel feels mildly insulted. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she tells him. Though she has a pretty good idea of who it might be.

"Seriously?" Mr. Schue seems _very_ skeptical.

Rachel nods.

Mr. Schuester sighs. "All right."

He doesn't say anything else, so Rachel begins moving towards the door. "I'm going to go then."

"See you tomorrow," Mr. Schue replies, absently.

"What was that about?" Noah asks as the door softly clicks shut.

"Nothing important," Rachel tells him.

"Then let's get you to your locker, madam," Noah says, bowing slightly.

**…**

Since Santana gave her a ride to school, Rachel also needs a ride home. Noah offered, but Rachel wants to talk to Santana before anyone else mentions Greg Sanderson; plus she wants to ask about slushieing Mr. Schue.

Even though she's staring out at the field, Rachel's not really paying attention, so when Coach Sylvester sits down next to her, Rachel jumps slightly.

"No worries, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "I come in peace."

"Sorry, Coach," Rachel replies. "I may have been day dreaming a bit."

"It's fine, Berry," she says. "I heard about Sanderson."

Rachel doesn't say anything. She's glad she stood up for herself, but hates how scared she was, no matter how justified.

"Try not to worry," Coach Sylvester continues. "I took care of it."

"Thank you Coach," Rachel replies. "But I'm not sure that owing you—"

"Free of charge," Coach Sylvester interrupts.

"Um... All right."

"There's no scenarios where a six foot four jock going after a five foot nothing teenage girl is acceptable, Berry, whether it was at school or not. I have no problem with the strong weeding out the weak, but Sanderson went too far."

Rachel lets out a sigh of relief. "Thanks Coach."

"Don't forget to mention it to Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "That should keep her from going after him. We don't have time for her to get her ass suspended."

Rachel nods.

"God, I can't even leave them alone for one minute, can I?" Coach Sylvester stands. "I've seen more effort from my pet rock! Do it again!" She turns to Rachel. "I'm counting on you to keep Lopez in line, Berry."

"I know, Coach."

"Good," Coach Sylvester nods. "At least you and I understand each other." She holds up her bullhorn and begins yelling again as she returns to the field.

**…**

Tuesday, Greg Sanderson shows up with a shaved head covered in orange permanent marker. There's also a black permanent marker mustache and thick glasses. The final bit is the word, ASSHAT written in thick, red, block letters. All the marker is faded slightly and it's obvious that Greg attempted to wash it off, but to no avail.

He also had to walk to school because someone stole all four tires off his car and weirdly, the steering wheel.

It's only the start of a week full of bad luck.


	44. A Cruel and Vengeful God

**Title:** A Cruel and Vengeful God  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Mike, Quinn, Kat, Figgins  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "I can't believe someone is stealing my prank ideas and ruining them."  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,230  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> previous stories  
><strong>AN:** Follows **Agree to Disagree**  
><strong>2nd AN:** Don't get used to this regular update schedule. It's only because I had no electricity yesterday and spent the day writing this out on a legal pad. Which probably says a lot about my productivity in relation to the amount of technology in the room, but that's a discussion for another day.

* * *

><p>The moment Rachel steps into McKinley Wednesday morning, she's pulled into Figgins' office.<p>

"Ms. Berry," Figgins greets. "I think I may have overestimated you."

"All right."

"I thought you were an intelligent young woman," Figgins continues.

"And now you don't?" Rachel questions.

"I just don't understand why you would continue to pull pranks," Figgins tells her. "Coach Sylvester's... interference will be no help to you this time. I cannot let this go on without a much more severe punishment."

"Since I haven't pulled any pranks, I'm going to have to protest that," Rachel replies.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"No," Rachel tells him. "So why don't you tell me about this prank that you think I've pulled."

"Not completely stupid then," Figgins says. "Apparently the diving board was removed and tossed into the swimming pool. It has "Save Me" spray painted on it."

"Well, that definitely wasn't me," Rachel says.

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because I pulled that prank _last year_ and I don't repeat pranks."

Figgins is skeptical. "You don't?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Someone is trying to set me up."

"Surely you don't believe that Ms. Berry."

"Well then someone just wants to pull pranks, but can't think of their own," Rachel says. "Because I didn't do it, Principal Figgins."

Figgins studies Rachel for a few moments and she tries to continue her confident, yet innocent stare.

"I'll believe you for now, Ms. Berry," Figgins says. "But I'll be watching you."

"I am fully aware sir," Rachel says standing.

**…**

"I'm just appalled by the entire situation."

Santana watches in amusement as Rachel paces in front of her. She had just opened her locker, when Rachel grabbed her wrist and began dragging her down the hall. Thankfully, Santana was able to slam her locker door shut before being dragged into the choir room. Her girlfriend then sat her down and began to pace as she recounted her meeting with Figgins.

"At least he believed you," Santana says. "Sort of."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Rachel replies. "I can't believe someone is stealing my prank ideas and ruining them."

"How is the prank ruined?" Santana asks. "It's like one of the simplest ones you did."

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "Which is what makes it so appalling. I wrote, "I'm drowning" on the diving board. This pathetic substitute wrote, "Save me", which is completely different."

"Maybe it was a homage," Santana suggests.

"Then it was a horrible one," Rachel retorts. "I'm completely insulted."

"Babe, you don't think that you're taking this a little too seriously?"

"I take pride in _everything_ I do, Santana," Rachel replies. "And this school is no longer allowed to... take a crap on my achievements."

"Fair enough," Santana says. "Do you want me to kick someone's ass?"

"Very tempting," Rachel replies. "But not yet."

**…**

Concerned that someone may be out to get Rachel, Santana seeks out Brittany. She pulls the blonde into the Cheerios' locker room because it's unlikely that they'll be overheard.

"I think someone's trying to screw over Rachy," Brittany says before Santana can even begin.

Of course Brittany would already know.

"That's what I was afraid of," Santana replies.

"Why else would they be pulling pranks that Rachel's already done?"

"Because they're too stupid to think of their own?" Santana offers.

"Well that is a definite possibility," Brittany agrees. "We're doing something about this, right?"

Santana nods. "Though you might have to be the information gatherer. For some reason, people are reluctant to talk to me."

"I don't mind," Brittany replies. "Anything for Rachel."

**…**

To Santana's dismay, she hears all sorts of craziness about the so called copycat; what's surprisingly is that _everyone_seems to know it wasn't Rachel. Santana supposes she shouldn't be so surprised that her classmates know better than the administration.

"Do you think it's a wanna be or someone trying to fuck with my bro?" Puck asks Santana in second period.

"Probably someone going after Rach," Santana replies.

"I'm so kicking their ass," Puck growls.

"Down boy," Santana says. "We gotta find them first."

"How?"

"B's working on it."

"Oh. Good."

**…**

To Brittany's surprise, no one she talks to seems to know anything about the copycat. Is it possible that people at McKinley can actually keep a secret?

Changing tactics, Brittany makes a mental list of the possible suspects. She decides to investigate them because unlike Santana, people are still willing to talk to her. Another reason to be glad for her dumb blonde routine.

**…**

Santana feels bad that she's letting Britt handle finding out who the copycat prankster is. As Rachel's girlfriend, she kind of likes the idea of being able to save the day. Probably because Rachel is so self sufficient. Santana just wants things to be easier for her, which is why she's going to take care of it, no matter what it takes.

**…**

Thursday morning, the teachers come in to find all the furniture in the teacher's lounge nailed to the ceiling.

Figgins is enraged.

**…**

"I'm surprised Figgins didn't pull you into his office this morning," Puck says when he finds Rachel at her locker.

"Why is that?"

"Apparently the copycat struck again," Puck replies. "Stole one of my ideas this time."

"You mean your only idea?"

"Hey!"

Rachel sighs. "So now I have to worry about finding out who's behind—"

"Actually, bro," Puck interjects. "I think you should let me, Lopez and Britt handle this."

"Why?"

"Hey, we can take care of stuff," Puck defends.

"I didn't mean it like that," Rachel replies. "Though the last time you 'took care of stuff', I had to worry about you three being arrested."

"Yeah, but this time we—"

"Noah," Rachel says. "Please don't make promises you can't keep." She closes her locker slowly. "Fine. I'll stay out of it, for now. But be careful. I have very little leverage left to save you guys if need be."

"You don't always have to be the one saving people, Rach," Puck replies. "Let us do this for you. Okay?"

Rachel nods.

"Good. Now I'm walking you to class."

"Thank you, Noah."

**…**

The biggest problem with what Brittany finds out is what to do with the information. The take down and avenging will have to be perfect. Not only to make a statement, but also because no one crosses Santana Lopez without consequences. And going after her girlfriend is even worse. So whatever Santana does, it has to be big.

**…**

"You're awfully quiet," Rachel says as Santana drives her home after glee.

"Sorry."

"You might as well just tell me," Rachel says.

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever is weighing so heavily on your mind. It'll make for a more pleasant evening, wouldn't you agree?"

Santana sighs. "Don't be mad."

"Good start," Rachel says, rolling her eyes.

"Look," Santana starts. "I know you said you didn't want me to do anything about the copycat prankster, but after this morning, I have no choice."

"San..."

"I have to Rach," Santana replies. "It's not even completely about you, babe. By going after you, they're going after me too."

"And we can't have that, can we? Even though we're almost done with this place, you still can't handle not being top dog for one second?"

"No, I can't," Santana says. "Because if I'm not, then you get slushied. Or worse. And I promised you that you'd never be slushied again right?"

"Which I appreciate."

Santana pulls into Rachel's driveway and turns off the car. "I'm sorry. But I have to take care of this. Which means we won't be spending Saturday together. I need to figure this out and take care of this weekend."

Rachel studies Santana for a moment. "You already know who it is, don't you?"

Santana nods.

"And you're not going to tell me, are you?"

Santana shakes her head.

"Noah requested that I stay out of it, this morning, but I didn't really think he had anything. I should have know that you... Brittany found out, didn't she?"

Santana nods again. "I know you like to take care of these sort of things yourself, and I totally understand it. But I have to do this, babe. Please let me."

"Fine. I'll find something else to do on Saturday. But I'm not bailing you guys out of jail, so try not to get caught okay?"

Santana grins.

"What?"

"I remember a time that you would have told me not to do anything illegal, instead of telling me not to get caught."

"So you're saying my daddy's right?" Rachel questions. "You are a bad influence?"

"Now you're just trying to pick a fight."

"We're at least hanging out, tonight, like usual, right?"

Santana nods and quickly jumps out of the car. Before Rachel has her seatbelt off, Santana is on the other side, opening her door for her.

"M'lady."

Rachel can't help but giggle as she takes Santana's offered arm. Rachel can't really be mad at Santana; she knows why her girlfriend is doing all this and since Santana supported Rachel's need to keep pulling insane pranks until she got caught, Rachel should respect Santana's need to defend her position in the McKinley hierarchy.

**…**

Friday morning, the students of McKinley arrive to find a bright, neon pink stripe running down the hall. The janitors have already started working on removing it, but unlike the one that Rachel and Brittany created, this one is huge, at least a foot wide, though not terribly straight. It also just goes down every hallway; it's almost like whoever painted it, just wanted a stripe running down each hall. No one follows it, though everyone tries to make a friend follow it. Instead, it mostly gets ignored.

**…**

Rachel ends up hanging out with Mike Friday night. It's nice. She's been so busy lately, that she hasn't had time to really hang out with him.

"Aren't you worried about the rumors that will start when people see us together?" Mike asks as they stand in line for a movie.

"Aren't you worried that Santana will kick your ass for taking me out?" Rachel counters.

Mike shakes his head. "You'll protect me."

Rachel smirks. "You always seem to have the right answer."

**…**

When Santana hears that one of the hockey players is having a party Saturday night, she knows that's where she'll confront the copycat prankster. She, Brittany and Puck spend Friday night planning it out. It helps that Puck's actually been to Bester's house, so he kind of knows the layout. As Santana hands out jobs and sketches out a plan, she wonders if this is how Rachel felt as she was planning pranks. If so, then Santana definitely understand why her girl kept going until she was caught.

**…**

Since Santana apparently needed an entire day to plan her revenge, Rachel decides to spend Saturday with Kat. As she drives over to the Tyler house, Rachel decides it's actually a good thing that Santana has other plans. Rachel feels like she's let Kat down, not being around as much lately. The prankster thing was really quite time consuming.

**…**

Puck doesn't understand why having a truck means he has to go find the rotten fruit. Yes, it will be nice to not have it actually inside the truck with him, but it's not like Santana or Brittany's cars don't have trunks. And honestly, it'd probably be safer since his truck's shocks are almost shot. He cringes as he hits a pot hole and a few apples jump out of the truck bed and roll down the street. He wonders if that counts as littering. And then he wonders when he started caring about crap like that.

**…**

Since Brittany is with Santana, Marisa calls Rachel up and asks to hang out. Kat says she doesn't mind, so Rachel tells Marisa to come over and bring something to do. They then call up Kat's mom and ask if Kat can spend the night. When Mrs. Tyler agrees, Rachel drives Kat back home to pack a bag.

**…**

"This is better than that time we sought vengeance on Jesse St. James," Brittany says.

They're currently leaning against Puck's truck, watching the party at Bester's house. They're watching to make sure their target arrives, but are also waiting for just the right moment to strike.

"Considering that you were the one that chloroformed him," Puck says. "I pretty sure it was _you_ who was seeking vengeance."

"Like you didn't help out Fuckerman," Santana quips.

"Do I even _want_ to know what you guys are talking about?" Mike asks.

"It's probably safer if you don't," Brittany tells him.

"I still don't see why we had to make this a foursome," Puck grouses.

"_That_ would be totally hot," Brittany says.

"I think part of the story was left out when you explained tonight to me, Britt," Mike says.

"Ignore him," Santana tells Mike. "He gets cranky if he thinks someone is encroaching on his territory."

"What?"

"Pucky is mad because he wants to be Rachy's sole savior and he can't be," Brittany explains.

"Oh. Okay."

**…**

For some reason, Marisa seems to think that Rachel will be able to explain how to play 3-D chess better than Brittany did. She can't. But Kat is so intrigued by it, that they spend the evening googling the rules and how to play in an attempt to teach Kat.

**…**

They wait until the party at Bester's is in full swing.

"Now you're sure that you saw them go inside and not come out, B?" Santana asks.

"Course, S," Brittany replies. "This is important. I'm not going to fuck it up."

"Right," Santana nods. "Of course. Sorry." She turns to Mike and Puck. "So Mike's going after Bender and Puck is going to get Willis. Right?"

They both nod.

"And then Britt and I will get set up in the backyard," Santana continues. "You got everything, B?"

Brittany nods as she throws the duffel bag onto her shoulder.

"Good," Santana says. "Then let's do this."

**…**

"Sorry about tonight."

Marisa half glances to her right at Rachel.

"What for?"

Rachel tries not to shrug since Kat is leaning against her right shoulder, asleep. "Britt's busy tonight because of me."

"Or because of Santana."

"Still my fault, though."

"Not necessarily," Marisa replies. "They're like beyond best friends. Sooner or later it was bound to happen."

"What?"

"Santana dragging Brittany off for some weird adventure."

"I suppose that's true."

"Besides, it's been a while since we've hung out," Marisa continues.

"Yeah, but I was already hanging out with Kat," Rachel points out.

"And now she's asleep," Marisa replies. "It's fine, Rachel. You worry too much."

**…**

The backyard is almost exactly as Puck described it and Santana is impressed with his drunken memory. They find the spot in the corner of the yard that has a picnic table in it and begin setting up. The two of them push it so it's standing on one end and then brace it at the top with the two by fours they brought. Brittany pulls out the rope and begins cutting pieces. Santana uses the first few pieces to tie the two by fours to the bench and then places two more smaller two by fours at the bottom of the braces so they don't slide around. She then begins tying the braces to the picnic table, using slip knots for ease.

By the time Mike appears leading a very drunk Shane Bender out into the yard, they're ready.

Bender is pretty drunk, so it doesn't take much to convince him that this is going to end differently and make him compliant enough to let them tie him to the picnic table.

Puck drags Willis outside a few minutes later and he fights back a bit, so Brittany pulls out the chloroform.

"Why'd you bring that?" Puck hisses.

"Because we needed it. Obviously," Brittany replies.

"Shut up, you two and help us," Santana orders.

They both stop glaring at each other and help Santana and Mike tie Jason Willis to the picnic table next to Bender.

Once everything's set up, Puck and Mike run back to the truck for the rotten fruit while Santana pulls out a bullhorn and begins shouting.

"Come one, come all and experience more fun than a barrel of monkeys!"

Brittany blows an air horn that appeared out of nowhere.

"Britt," Santana hisses, covering her left ear. "A little warning, next time?"

"Sorry, S."

**…**

Quinn really doesn't want to be at this party, but as the Cheerio captain she has to at least make an appearance. She fights the urge to roll her eyes at everyone in the room, when she hears Santana Lopez on a bullhorn outside.

Well this party just got a little more interesting.

**…**

Once there's enough of a crowd, Santana begins addressing the crowd.

"I know I don't have to introduce myself, but just in case, I'm Santana Lopez. As I'm sure all of you know, I've been dating Rachel Berry for the last two years. And I'm also sure that all of you know that last week, Rachel was outed as the prankster who has been terrorizing the administration these past couple years.

"However, in an obvious fit of insanity, someone decided to copy some of her easier pranks this past week. I presume to get my girl in more trouble with Figgins.

"This is unacceptable. After some investigation by Brittany, we've found the culprits." Santana steps aside and everyone notices Bender and Willis tied to the picnic table. "It seems these boys were upset that their buddy, Sanderson was treated harshly for a whole five minutes this past week and tried to retaliate. It's too bad that they went after the wrong person.

"Sure, I could just kick their asses, but where's the fun in that?" Santana asks. "So instead, I thought we could all join in the process of punishing the guilty party."

Someone calls out, "How?!" Santana is pretty sure that it's Quinn.

"Well I'm glad that you asked," Santana replies. "I just happened to find all this rotten fruit."

Puck and Mike push forward two large trolleys full of fruit boxes.

"And I figure the best way to dispose of it all is to throw it."

"Why?!" someone calls out.

"Why not," Santana retorts. "No one has to participate, of course. I just thought it would be fun. But if it helps, just imagine it's someone else you've always wanted to throw fruit at. Figgins. One of your teachers. Whoever." Santana pauses for a moment. "Come on, who's first?"

No one moves, though it's obvious that _someone's_ pushing their way through the crowd. A moment later, Quinn Fabray holds out her hand. Grinning, Santana places a tomato in her palm.

"Captain," Santana salutes. "You get the first shot."

"Thank you Santana," Quinn replies. "I thought for sure, you'd want to take it."

Santana's grin becomes a bit sinister as she says, "Don't worry, I have my own version of justice for them."

"You're really kind of scary right now, Lopez."

"Just throw the fruit, Fabray."

**…**

Rachel ends up putting Kat in her dads' bed because she feels weird putting her in the guest room. Even though the sheets have been changed, it still feels weird putting her in the same bed that her older sister most likely had sex in.

"What do you think they're doing?" Marisa asks when Rachel joins her on the couch.

"Knowing Santana," Rachel says. "Something humiliating."

"She's defending your honor," Marisa says. "It's nice."

"I just can't believe that I didn't consider the fact that some of our peers would want to retaliate against me," Rachel sighs.

"Considering how many balls you were juggling, it seems understandable that you'd overlook something."

**…**

It takes a bit of coaxing, but their drunken classmates eventually give in and begin hurling the rotten fruit at the picnic table. There's also alcohol thrown, but thankfully only in red plastic cups. For whatever reason, there appears to be absolutely no bottles or cans at this party and for that, Santana is eternally grateful, because taking these two douche bags to the hospital was not part of the plan.

Once people have run out of things to throw and become bored, they begin shuffling back inside to drink more. Mike locates the hose and turns it. He sprays all the fruit and beer off Bender and Willis before Puck and Santana untie them.

They then lower the picnic table back into place and toss everything back into the duffel bag. They leave Bender and Willis half leaning against it, dripping wet, drunk and sore, smelling of fruit and beer.

"I can't believe you're going to leave them like that," Quinn says.

"Don't worry, Q," Brittany replies. "We're not."

Santana pulls out a couple boxes of baking soda and hands one to Brittany. They rip open the boxes and then precede to cover Bender and Willis with it. Because they're still soaked, it sticks easily.

"Okay, that's... weird."

"Don't worry, that's not all," Santana warns.

"I'm not sure, worried, is what I am," Quinn retorts.

Next Brittany pulls out two tins of Altoids. Quinn watches in amusement as she empties one tin down Bender's pants and then the other down Willis'. However, she's definitely not laughing when Santana pulls out two bottles of soda and hands one to Brittany. They each twist off the top and then shove the mouth of the bottle down Willis and Bender's pants.

While Quinn is watching Willis and Bender suffer through that, though they're both drunk enough that they probably don't completely feel it, Santana continues to dig through the duffel bag.

"What else could you possibly do to them?"

Santana grins as she pulls out a bottle of glue.

"Seriously?"

Santana nods and then places pours thick amounts of glue onto each of their palms and then presses their hands together. Brittany then hands her two long strips of duct table and Santana tapes their hands together.

"There," Santana says, standing. "That should be good."

"You are unbelievable," Quinn comments.

"A cruel and vengeful god, that's for sure," Puck adds.

"Yeah, seriously, Santana," Mike says. "I can't tell who I'm more afraid of, you or Rach."

"You say the nicest things, Mikey."

**…**

Not wanting to make Marisa uncomfortable, Rachel offers to sleep on the floor. Marisa counters that since it's Rachel's room, Marisa should be the one to sleep on the floor.

"Or we could share the bed?" Rachel offers. "It's big enough."

"Really? Are you sure?" Marisa asks.

Rachel nods. "Are you?"

Taking a moment to consider the situation, her old feelings verse what she currently feels for Rachel, Marisa nods.

"Okay," Rachel says, with a soft smile. "I'm glad that's settled then."

**…**

Santana considers heading over to Rachel's since it's not quite midnight, but decides against it. Once Puck drops her and B off at Britt's house, the exhaustion hits her.

"Can I crash here?" she asks Brittany.

"Of course," the blonde replies.

**…**

Marisa knows she should probably be mad to find Santana and Brittany in bed, curled up together, but she's not. Even more than she trusts Brittany, Marisa trust that Santana wouldn't do that to Rachel.

Still it was a bit of a shock to walk into her girlfriend's room and find her wrapped around someone else, so Marisa decides a bit of fun is in order. She slowly backs out of the room and calls Rachel, who thankfully is only a block away.

As she waits for Rachel, Marisa worries that maybe she's overstepping some boundaries, but decides against it since Rachel was heading over to the Lopez house to see Santana anyway.

Marisa meets Rachel at the front door and explains the situation upstairs. Rachel grins and Marisa follows her up the stairs to Brittany's room.

**…**

After checking that Brittany's parents are indeed gone and that she won't be waking anyone else up, Rachel bursts into Brittany's room.

"What the hell?!"

Both Santana and Brittany sit up and blink at an irate looking Rachel Berry.

Hands on her hips, Rachel taps her foot on the ground. "Well?"

Brittany waves. "Hi Rachy."

"What?" Santana questions. "It's Britt."

"Well that back fired," Rachel tells Marisa. "Guess I should have just gone with the bucket of water, huh?"

Marisa shrugs.

"You guys are up early," Brittany says.

"No reason to stay in bed," Rachel replies.

Brittany smirks and beckons Marisa over.

Santana, in turn, climbs out of bed and begins looking for her shoes.

"See you guys later?" Rachel says as she dragged out of the room by Santana.

**…**

On Monday, at school, everyone gives Rachel a wide berth. It makes her wonder if Santana went too far on Saturday night. Rachel understands why she did what she did; her girlfriend is a student of the 'go big or go home' philosophy. And Rachel usually follows a similar line of thought. She just wishes she wasn't back to feeling like a leaper.

Oh well, at least they're not throwing slushies, Rachel thinks. It reminds her that things could be worse; plus in six months, she'll be heading to New York.

Rachel lets those thoughts comfort her as she strolls down the hall towards her locker.


	45. Quite the Precedent

**Title:** Quite the Precedent  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Puck  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It's Santana's birthday.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,110  
><strong>AN:** This is version 2.0. Thanks to silviafan1986 for the heads up that Quinn already came out to mom.

* * *

><p>With all the chaos of the group prank, her suspension and then the copycat prankster, Rachel's barely been able to think about Santana's birthday. This is particularly unfortunately since Rachel has no idea what her girlfriend wants. And it's not as if Rachel <em>forgot<em>about Santana's birthday; more like she hadn't realized how close it really is. Still, she has a whole week and a half to figure out what Santana might want to do on her eighteenth birthday.

**…**

"San?"

"Yeah babe?"

"What are we doing for your birthday?" Rachel asks.

"I don't care," Santana shrugs.

"It's your eighteenth birthday," Rachel says. "We have to do something."

"Why?"

"Because we do," Rachel replies.

Santana sighs. "Well the obvious answer is that we throw a party. But then you have to deal with the aftermath."

"True," Rachel agrees.

"Plus, we did that last year," Santana continues.

"Also true."

"You know what'd be awesome?" Santana asks. "Just you and me. We can spend the weekend naked."

"We do that almost every weekend, San," Rachel replies.

"And your point is?"

Rachel shakes her head, but doesn't reply.

"Please tell me you're not pouting," Santana tries, but Rachel stays quiet.

"Here's what we're going to do for your birthday," Rachel says eventually.

"Excuse me?" Santana chuckles. "Shouldn't I get to decide that?"

"Well considering that I did use your input and am now making a decision based off your initial answer," Rachel replies. "I would say that you did get to decide. Just indirectly."

Santana laughs. "All right babe. Let's hear your idea."

"So dad's boss has this amazing cabin that he sometimes lets dad and daddy use," Rachel explains. "I bet if I asked, my dad would get permission for us to use it."

"A cabin, babe?" Santana is skeptical. "I'm not really a fan of camping."

"And you assume I am? Have you met me?" Rachel retorts. "Trust me. It's not really a cabin as much as it is a _ridiculously_expensive second house set on a lake."

"Oh. Well, when you put it that way..."

"There's a Jacuzzi..."

"All right, you've sold me," Santana says.

"Excellent," Rachel says. "Now we just have to talk to your folks before I call dad, don't you think?"

"Why? I already spend all weekend over here, anyway," Santana replies.

"San."

"Fine," Santana huffs. "I'll ask them."

**…**

"I'm thinking of visiting Alyson this weekend," Quinn says.

"You're going to drive to Pittsburgh all by yourself?" Brittany questions.

"Akron actually," Quinn answers. "It's about half way in between."

"And your mom is going to let you?" Santana asks.

"She said she would after I introduced Alyson to her," Quinn replies.

"If she says no," Brittany says. "We can go with you next weekend, Quinn."

Santana sighs. "We probably could."

"You think your parents would let you go again?" Quinn asks.

Santana shrugs. "I'll just have Rach ask. She's their favorite."

Brittany giggles.

**…**

When her parents ask her about her birthday, Santana's a bit surprised. It's been a few years since they've asked her what she wants to do for her birthday. Before dating Rachel, Santana was a bit of a spoiled brat, so her parents usually just gave her cash and left her to her own devices. Rachel's influence on all of them has never been more obvious to Santana. Secure in this knowledge, Santana explains what she'd like to do for her birthday. Her parents don't immediately react and so Santana's confidence falters slightly as she finishes. Perhaps she's relying too much on her parents' love of Rachel and the changes she's brought forth in Santana.

"That wasn't what we were expecting," her dad tells her.

"Oh. Okay."

"It's not a bad thing, dear," her mom adds. "Just... unexpected."

"Okay," Santana replies, slowly. "And that means?"

"Your mom and I need to discuss it first," her dad answers.

Santana nods and drops the subject, hoping her mature response will work in her favor.

**…**

"What are we doing next weekend?" Santana asks Rachel later that night.

"Nothing specific that I'm aware of," Rachel replies. "Though I have to wonder why you asked since we're celebrating your birthday _this_ weekend. Why are you already worried about next weekend?"

"Well, Q wants go visit Alyson by herself this weekend," Santana explains. "But just in case her mom says no, B offered for us to go with next weekend. Like last time."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Are you sure that your parents would give you permission again?"

"I have no idea," Santana replies. "But I figure if you ask them, then they will."

"You know your dad just enjoys teasing you, right?"

"I know he does," Santana says. "But I also still think that you're their favorite."

"They like me for you Santana," Rachel replies. "I mean, I believe they like me, but I also believe that they like the person you're becoming when we're together. Not to sound too arrogant."

"No," Santana says. "That's the normal amount of Rachel Berry arrogance I expect."

"Ha ha."

"So you're cool going up to Pittsburgh next weekend, if need be?"

"I suppose another road trip might be fun," Rachel agrees.

"Cool."

**…**

Despite the optimism she has when talking with Santana, Rachel really isn't certain that her dad will agree. Even though her dad's boss loves him and by extension, her, Rachel's still not sure that her dad would actually want to help create a situation that allows her and Santana to be alone all weekend in comfort.

Thankfully, he agrees. He says it's only because he thinks Michael is over reacting to the relationship. "And I like the confidence she's helped instill in you." He also doesn't ask her to keep it a secret; another surprise.

She doesn't get a confirmation text until late that night, but her dad tells her that his boss, Jamie is fine with it and will messenger over the key the next day.

**…**

Quinn is feeling particularly anti social today, so she decides to eat lunch in the choir room. She knows that she runs the possibility of running into Rachel or worse, Mr. Schue, is high, but she decides to risk it because she just can't handle the lunch room today.

She's surprised to find Rachel and Brittany inside, quietly eating. Quinn looks around, but doesn't see Santana anywhere.

"She's talking to Coach," Brittany answers.

"Oh," Quinn replies sitting next to Brittany.

"I'm glad you're here Quinn," Rachel says. "As there was something I was hoping to discuss with you at one point."

Quinn sighs. "Berry, I'm really not in the mood for some—"

"I was talking to Santana last night," Rachel interrupts. "And I wanted you to know that if your mother doesn't give you permission or you're too afraid to ask, we can all drive up to Pittsburgh next weekend."

"Oh."

"_Roooad Trip_, woo hoo," Brittany exclaims.

"You say that like we've never been on a road trip together, Britt," Rachel says.

"It'll be like an adventure," Brittany replies. "And maybe Marisa can come this time?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, Brittany," Rachel says. "It may not be necessary."

"True," Brittany agrees. "If Quinn can nut up and ask for permission, then it'll be fine."

"Please never say, 'nut up' again, B," Quinn tells her.

"Okay."

"I'm sure if your mom said she'd be okay with it before, Quinn," Rachel says. "I'm sure she'll still agree now."

"I know," Quinn replies. "I guess I'm just worried that now that she's had some time to think about it, she'll change her mind."

"About you visiting Alyson alone?" Brittany questions.

"Yeah," Quinn replies. "And maybe about me being gay."

"You live with her Quinn," Rachel points out. "Do you ever get that sense from her?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Then I guess I'm not sure I understand why you're so worried," Rachel says.

Quinn shrugs. "I guess I'm just so used to parental disapproval that I still expect it; even if my dad is gone."

"Well, that's certainly something I can understand," Rachel says.

**...**

"So have your parents decided yet?"

"They're still thinking," Santana replies.

"Hey," Rachel says. "If they say no, then I'll just have to figure out something else special we can do."

"Yeah, but—"

"All that matters, San," Rachel interjects. "Is that we're together. Right?"

"Yeah."

**...**

"I can't believe that we're actually saying this," Clara says, two nights later over dinner. "But if you want to spend the weekend at a cabin with Rachel, just the two of you, we're fine with it."

"As long as we have as much contact info as possible," Tomás adds.

"Seriously?" Santana asks. "Thank you so much, you guys." Santana eyes them suspiciously. "Did Rachel call you?"

Tomás laughs. "Surprisingly, no. We decided without your girl's influence."

"We're just so proud of you, Santana," Clara says. "Getting into NYU with such a huge scholarship; that's incredible."

"It's not that big of deal," Santana mumbles.

"Considering that you wouldn't even _discuss_ college with us your sophomore year," Tomás says. "I beg to differ."

"Oh. Yeah," Santana says. "I was more pissed off back then."

"Oh, we know," Tomás replies.

"Another reason we're agreeing," Clara says.

"Oh. Well. Thanks."

**...**

"Did you call my parents?" Santana asks.

"About?" Rachel questions.

"You know what," Santana retorts.

"Obviously I don't," Rachel replies. "Or I wouldn't have asked."

"They told me at dinner that as long as we give them all sorts of contact information, that they're fine if the two of us go up to that cabin."

"Really? Wow," Rachel replies. "I guess your request wasn't as insane as I thought."

"No," Santana says. "I knew it was. That's why I thought _you_ called them. You are their favorite, after all."

Rachel sighs. "You know that's not true. Just like you know how proud of you they are."

"I know."

"Considering you just got exactly what you wanted for your birthday, you seem rather dour," Rachel says.

"Just thinking..."

"About?"

"Have I told you how glad I am that you're going to be in New York too?" Santana asks.

"Umm..."

"I mean, Brittany is going to California and Q is heading to Chicago and I just... knowing that you and I will be together, kicking ass in New York makes it all seem a bit less daunting, you know?"

"I do know," Rachel says quietly.

There's so much significance and feeling in those three words that Santana wonders if she and Rachel are having the same conversation.

"I should go."

It's an abrupt mood shift, even for Rachel, but Santana doesn't feel ready to question it yet. "All right."

"I've fallen a bit behind and I'm only a week ahead of our homework schedule," Rachel continues. "I'll be much more relaxed this weekend, if I'm caught up again."

Santana chuckles. "Whatever you say, babe. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You will indeed," Rachel says. "Night San."

Santana stares at her phone for a long moment after Rachel hangs up, but she can't figure out _what_ exactly suddenly shifted for Rachel. Maybe her girlfriend will be more willing to talk about it this weekend.

**…**

"I can't believe you're abandoning me like this."

"I'm spending _one_ weekend away with my girlfriend on her birthday," Rachel replies. "I'd hardly call that abandonment.'

"Our senior year is slipping away, bro," Noah says. "We gotta take advantage."

"Yeah, well, my days with Santana are numbered as well," Rachel replies. "So I have to get in as much alone time with her as possible."

"So you're really going to do it?" Noah asks, looking upset.

"I don't think I have a choice, Noah," Rachel replies. "It can only end badly."

"Yeah, maybe," he says. "But for some reason, I feel like you're over reacting."

"I'm not so sure that I am," Rachel says.

"The chances of ever getting her back seem slim to none," Noah points out.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But Rachel Berry has been known to buck the odds before."

"Yeah, but this seems like a much bigger risk."

"I know," Rachel sighs.

"You're still waffling," Noah says.

"I can't be one hundred percent on this," Rachel tells him. "I always told myself that I would be, but now, I'm not sure that it's possible."

"It definitely isn't," Noah agrees.

"I still have time," Rachel says.

"You say that like something's magically going to happen that will suddenly convince you."

"Anything's possible," Rachel shrugs.

"It's your life, bro."

**...**

When Brittany insists on coming home with Santana after school Thursday, Santana doesn't really think much of it. However, the blonde is unusually giddy in the car, even for Brittany.

"Maybe you should cut back on the caffeine, Britt," Santana tells her as they pull into the driveway.

"I'm just excited, S," Brittany replies.

"I can see that, B," Santana says. "I'm just not sure why."

Brittany just smirks and bounces into the house.

Once they're settled in Santana's room, the blonde hands over a large, beautifully wrapped box.

"Um, where did this come from?" Santana asks.

"Me, silly," Brittany replies. "It's your birthday present."

"Thanks," Santana says. "But that's not what I meant."

"Oh."

"How did this box fit in your not very big backpack?" Santana questions.

Brittany shrugs. "Are you going to open it?"

Santana lets herself get caught up in her best friend's excitement and begins pulling off the paper. The first thing she sees is a small stack of scratch offs and lottery tickets. She sets them aside as she shoots Brittany a strange look. Under that are a couple boxes of cigarettes as well as several plastic lighters and a small bottle of lighter fluid. Santana shakes her head and sets them aside. Considering what she's already pulled out, it comes as no surprise to find several porn magazines at the bottom of the box. She chuckles at the _Playboy_ and _Playgirl_ and then just sputters in disbelief at the final one that reads _Big and Beardy_.

"I thought you'd enjoy the variety," Brittany grins.

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, B, because I do," Santana says. "But since I'm legal, I can just go get all this stuff myself."

"I know," Brittany nods. "But I wanted you to know all your options."

"Thanks."

"Maybe you can trade the cigarettes for favors," Brittany suggests.

"You're thinking of prison, Britt."

"Oh. Yeah," Brittany says. "I guess watching women in prison movies before I go to sleep may be a little confusing."

"Does Marisa know about your horrible late night viewing habits?" Santana asks, amused.

Brittany grins. "She turned bright red when she picked up the box the other day."

Santana just shakes her head as Brittany grabs _Big and Beardy_ up and begins flipping through it.

**…**

Dinner is a quiet affair, per usual. Quinn talks about her day and her mom talks about hers. It's not the perfect family dinner that she always pretended existed in her house, but it's a great deal more comfortable than family dinners used to be. What Quinn appreciates the most is that even if she or her mom doesn't have a lot to say, they can still just eat in peace and enjoy each other's presence.

"Any plans for the weekend, Quinnie?"

"Um, well, actually, sort of," Quinn replies.

"Sort of?"

"Well, it's been a while since I've seen Alyson," Quinn explains. "And so I was hoping I could maybe do that this weekend."

"You want to drive to Pittsburgh this weekend?"

"Actually, just Akron," Quinn replies. "It's about halfway in between. And then it's not much of a drive for either of us."

"I see."

"And if she visits here, she has to stay with Rachel Berry... which is..." Not sure how to finish that sentence, Quinn just shakes herself and continues. "And if I drive there, we have to worry about her roommate. So we figured meeting half way in between is the best solution."

"So you're going to drive to Akron and stay in a hotel for a weekend to meet up with your girlfriend?" her mom clarifies.

"Uh, yeah," Quinn replies. "It sounds a bit... sordid when you say it like that. But it's not. Really."

"Well Akron _is_ certainly closer than Pittsburgh," her mom says. "And I did say that I would be fine with you driving to Pittsburgh, so it seems unfair for me to say you can't meet Alyson in Akron."

"So I can go?"

Her mom nods.

"Thanks mom," Quinn grins. "You're the best."

"Did you really think that I would say no?" her mom asks.

"I don't know," Quinn says. "I guess I'm still getting used to... you and me and being honest and all that."

"I'm just glad that you asked me, Quinnie," her mom replies.

"Me too."

**…**

Wanting to have as much of the weekend as possible, Rachel insists on leaving bright and early Friday morning. Santana grumbles a lot, but agrees since the issue of skipping school, for once, doesn't seem to be a concern for Rachel. She'd like to think that's her influence. Rachel haughtily denies it and turns up the music.

**…**

Since Alyson's last class of the day ends at one, Quinn skips the last couple periods so she can leave a bit early and get there around the same time. It's her senior year and she's in the top ten of her class. If she wants to skip a couple classes, she should be able to. The best thing is that because she's a Cheerio, no one's going to question it.

**...**

After almost five hours, they stop by the grocery store, since it's on the way there. They buy groceries, Santana arguing about everything Rachel puts in the cart because the indignant huff Rachel gives at Santana's protests is adorable.

As they check out, Santana idly wonders if she can convince Rachel to cook naked. Maybe they could spend the entire weekend naked; she hadn't been joking about that. It is her birthday, after all.

It's not much of a drive to the cabin and before Santana realizes it, they're pulling into the driveway of a property that is definitely not just a simple cabin. It looks bigger than her own house.

They leave their bags by the door and explore. Rachel insists they visit the kitchen first, setting their groceries on the counter and Santana convinces her that they can put things away after a quick tour of the house.

Santana still can't believe the size of this so called cabin.

This guy's house must be a freaking castle.

"Not quite," Rachel replies. "But it's close. I think it has its own zip code."

The first floor has a chef's wet dream of a kitchen, a gigantic TV in front of the comfiest looking couch ever with tons of DVDs shelved nearby.

There are two bedrooms and a bathroom that are quite nice. And then they find the master suite. It is a massive bedroom with a king size bed. The bathroom has a whirlpool bath tub and a large shower where the water rains down from the ceiling.

"Damn..." Santana mutters.

"Not bad, huh?" Rachel smirks.

"This is one of the best ideas you've ever had," Santana replies.

Rachel grins. "Happy birthday, Tiger."

Santana grins back. "Thanks babe."

They explore the basement next even though they have no intention of using it. There's an entertainment room and two more bedrooms, as well as another impressive bathroom.

"This TV is bigger," Santana observes.

"The one upstairs is seventy-five inches, San," Rachel replies. "You don't think that's big enough?"

Santana can only shrug.

**...**

Rachel refuses to cook naked, but with some pleading from Santana, she does agree to cook nude except for an apron that reads _That's How I Roll_ under a picture of a rolling pin. It's better than the other option: _The Grillfather_.

"I hope you're not too disappointed, San," Rachel say as she stands at the stove.

"Nope," Santana replies as she chops vegetables. "I still get to stare at your ass, which, as you know, is one of my favorite things to stare at."

"_Santana_," Rachel huffs.

Santana just grins and returns to her chopping.

**...**

Santana is in love with the shower. She and Rachel spend over an hour under the spray until the cold water drives them away.

"When you become rich and famous," Santana says as they dry off. "You are buying us one of these."

"Why is it my responsibility?" Rachel questions. "Aren't you going to become a rich and powerful attorney?"

"You'll be famous before I become powerful," Santana replies.

"Flattery? _Really_?" Rachel asks.

Grinning, Santana shakes her head. "Hey I was serious when I said that we're doing it everywhere we can here. It is my birthday, right?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "If you don't stop throwing that in my face..."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Fine," Santana says. "But only because you cooked my favorite, nearly nude."

"You're acting like seeing me naked is a novel concept," Rachel retorts.

Santana shrugs. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're hot. You should never wear clothes."

"Considering we live in Ohio, that sounds rather cold," Rachel replies.

"I'd keep you warm," Santana smirks.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

**…**

Santana wakes up on her back with Rachel on top of her and it feels like the perfect moment. Inhaling the faint, familiar scent of Rachel's shampoo, Santana tries to imprint this moment in her mind. As the end of the school year approaches, Santana knows that she probably won't have many more moments like this with her girlfriend and there will definitely be fewer moments of alone time. Sure, they'll have the summer together, but Santana knows that Rachel will still be just as busy with her various classes as well as preparing for New York.

Santana's heart speeds up a bit. She's nervous; she can admit that to herself, at least. While she's excited for her and Rachel to take New York by storm, she's also well aware of the difficulties that come from transition a high school relationship into college. And while they'll definitely be in the same city, they'll both be _very_ busy. But Santana _knows_ that their relationship is up to the challenge. At least she hopes it is. She can't lose this, she tells herself as she tightens her arms around the still slumbering Rachel.

"I love you," Santana whispers.

"Love you too," a still sleeping Rachel mumbles back.

**…**

They stay in bed later than usual and then they spend the rest of the morning in the Jacuzzi tub. Even if they're basically doing what they do every weekend together, their surroundings make it seem special. It really is the perfect birthday. It makes Santana feel like a bit of sap, thinking that. But she's unapologetically in love; if she wants to spend her eighteenth birthday, naked with her super hot girlfriend, then she should be able to.

**…**

The drive back to Lima is filled with a comfortable silence that still sometimes surprises Santana. It's been a perfect birthday weekend, which also surprises her a bit, even though she knows that being with Rachel and becoming the person she is, who is incredibly different from pre glee Santana, have made it possible to enjoy things that she would have scoffed at years before. It's definitely a good thing; Santana isn't sure that she liked the person she'd been turning into. Especially since that person wouldn't have enjoyed a silent, yet content car ride with Rachel Berry.

Santana's hand finds Rachel's knee and idly traces patterns on it. Rachel keeps her eyes on the road, but smiles.

"Happy?"

"Course, babe," Santana replies. "I got exactly what I wanted for my birthday."

"Good."

"You're spoiling me," Santana continues.

"How so?"

"My last two birthdays have been exactly what I wanted," Santana explains. "You're setting quite a precedent."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Rachel says.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Santana replies. "I'm just saying."

"You better not be complaining," Rachel teases. "Or I'll take it all back."

Santana laughs. "How? As far as I know, Artie hasn't built a time machine yet."

"Give him time," Rachel retorts. "I'm sure he'll figure something out."

"Then I look forward to it," Santana says. "I can think of nothing but _possibilities_.

"God," Rachel groans. "How is it possible for you to make _everything_ sound dirty?"

"Multi talented," Santana answers. "Remember?"

"Oh, I _definitely_ remember," Rachel purrs.

"Good."

"All right then."

Santana sighs. "You don't always have to have the last word, you know."

"Yes I do."

Santana growls, but doesn't really comment.


	46. Something to Do

**Title:** Something to Do  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany/Maris, Mike/Wendy  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck's bored.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~2,100  
><strong>AN:** Follows Quite the Precedent. The first **book** that Puck finds does exist, though my copy that I reference is the first edition and many years old. The second one does not.

* * *

><p>Puck is bored. As much as he enjoys hanging with his bro, getting drunk and playing video games just doesn't hold the same appeal anymore.<p>

"Something bothering you, Noah?"

"No. Why?"

"Because that's the third time you've sighed in five minutes," Rachel replies.

"Oh," he says. "I'm fine."

"Obviously," Rachel retorts.

"I miss pulling pranks," he replies. "Why'd you agree to Artie's insane plan? Maybe if you hadn't…"

"We still would have gotten caught," Rachel tells him. "It was only a matter of time."

"That doesn't sound like my optimistic bro," Puck says.

"No," Rachel replies. "It's your pragmatic one."

"Booorrinngg."

"Why is it solely my responsibility to come up with activities?" Rachel asks.

"Touché," Puck replies. "Fine. I'll come up with next week's activity."

**…**

Puck spends the week researching. Rachel jokes that if he had devoted even half that amount of energy towards school, he'd be an A student. Puck, personally, has his doubts.

**…**

"I know what we're doing tonight," Puck announces at lunch.

"You're letting _Puck_ plan your Friday night?" Santana questions.

Rachel shrugs. "He has things he wants to do."

"You two are going to end up in jail," Santana groans.

"Hey, I haven't even told you guys my idea yet," Puck protests.

"Let's hear your idea, Pucky," Brittany exclaims.

"Yeah, _Pucky_," Mike grins.

Puck rolls his eyes. "So I found this book." He holds up a thin black book.

Rachel snatches the book out of his hand. "Fire eating. A manual of instruction," she reads.

"Where'd you even get this book?" Mike questions.

"So you want a visit from the fire department, instead," Santana says.

"That seems worse," Brittany adds.

Meanwhile, Rachel is flipping through the book.

Puck watches gleefully, since it seems that Rachel might actually go for it.

"Here's something I didn't know," Rachel says. "Lighter fluid can stain concrete."

"Important lesson," Mike says.

"I like that he warns you that smoking cigarettes is harmful to your health," Brittany adds, reading over Rachel's shoulder.

"Do you think typing a warning in caps discourages people?" Mike asks, joining Brittany.

"We are most certainly not trying this Noah," Rachel tells him.

"But it's a manual of instruction," Puck protests. "That's better than googling it, right?"

"What about the part in caps that reads, fire eating is extremely dangerous and that the reader undertakes any of these stunts at his/her own risk?" Mike questions.

"Plus, then there's another warning _after_ that in italics," Brittany adds.

"Yeah, you guys are _definitely_ not doing that," Santana says.

"_Fine_," Puck huffs and slumps into the empty chair next to Brittany.

**…**

Rachel tries to make it up to Puck by getting fireworks for the evening. They set off Wheels and Fountains and the mild danger level feels like enough for him. It's not quite fire eating, but it's still pretty cool.

**…**

Puck decides on ice sculpting because it has the potential to appeal to both him and Rachel. He scours the internet looking for instructions or tutorials and stumbles onto _Ice Sculpting: Art for the Uninitiated_. It seems to be available cheaply locally, so he goes out and buys it. The store is the same place he found the fire eating book. He'll have to remember that The Book Barrel is the place to find strange how to books.

He eagerly reads through it and it seems so completely doable. Rach will totally go for it, he's sure. There's definitely room in her backyard and he vaguely remembers seeing a chainsaw in the garage. Though, considering that Rachel's dads are never home to really do any yard work, Puck doesn't understand why they have one in the first place.

The book also recommends using a blow torch and he thinks that he's seen one in a kitchen drawer. It all seems like serendipity to Puck; the fact that he found the book and that Rachel has the necessary tools already at her house.

**…**

"Another book?" Santana questions the moment Puck sits down.

"I didn't know that you could read, Pucky," Brittany says, cheekily, causing Marisa to giggle.

"Watch it," Puck growls.

"Get a sense of humor," Santana snaps.

Rachel takes the book out of Puck's hands and begins flipping through it. Marisa looks over her shoulder.

"Isn't it a bit warm for outside ice sculpting?" Marisa asks.

"We live in Ohio," Puck answers.

"It's April," Brittany points out.

"And I'm not comfortable using a chainsaw without supervision or direction from an expert, Noah," Rachel adds.

Puck sighs. "I can't win with you guys."

"Not when you come up with stupid ideas, you can't," Santana smirks.

"I don't hear you coming up with anything better, Lopez," Puck retorts.

"You didn't ask," she replies.

"Because I don't want _your_ help."

"Enough," Rachel says. "I'm sorry, Noah, but I don't think this is going to work. Besides the concern about our lacking knowledge of proper chainsaw usage, we don't have any fuel for ours."

"You could buy some," Brittany suggests.

Rachel ignores her. "I'm taking it as a sign."

"So then what exactly are we doing tonight?"

**…**

"We're really hot wiring my truck?"

"You have a problem with that?" Rachel questions as she pops the hood.

"Well, no, it's not that," Puck replies, joining Rachel as she walks to the front of the trunk.

"Then what?"

Puck shrugs. "I guess I never really thought you'd want to... uh, endorse that kind of behavior."

"We're learning a skill, Noah," Rachel tells him.

"A criminally related skill," Puck replies.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But if the apocalypse happens and I survive it, knowing how to hot wire a car may come in handy."

"I think you've been spending too much time with Artie," Puck says.

"As opposed to all those stupid action flicks you've made me watch?" Rachel counters.

Since this is something Puck's actually interested in, he's not sure why he's arguing. "So what's first?"

**…**

"All right," Puck says, plopping down next to Rachel during lunch on Friday. "I think I've finally figured it out."

"I thought you'd give up by now, Pucky," Brittany says.

Puck ignores her. "Since you rejected my two previous _awesome_ ideas—"

"Yet potentially fatal," Mike interjects.

"I have come up with one that you have to agree to."

"I have to?"

"You do," he asserts.

"All right," Rachel says. "I'm listening."

Puck's response is to slap two brand new decks of cards on the table.

"We're not playing strip poker, Noah."

"With just the two of us?" Puck scoffs. "_Boorrinng_."

"Are you saying that Rachy's not hot?" Brittany questions.

"Definitely not the point," Puck says. "And no, I'm not suggesting poker, strip or otherwise."

"So spit it out already, Puckerman," Santana snaps.

"Card throwing," Puck announces, triumphantly.

"Card throwing?" Wendy repeats.

Puck nods. "It has the potential to be awesome, it's a skill very few people have and it's far less dangerous than fire eating or using a chainsaw."

"Plus, I do believe I have a slight advantage since I know how to throw knives," Rachel adds.

"You do?" Wendy questions.

Brittany nods. "She does."

"So bro?" Puck asks. "What do you think?"

"It sounds intriguing," Rachel replies.

"Awesome."

**…**

Puck shows up with a case of beer, the two decks of cards and a pumpkin.

"Is it Halloween already?" Rachel greets when she opens the door and finds herself face to face with the large orange squash.

"Target."

Rachel nods and they head straight to the back yard to learn how to throw cards.

It turns out card throwing isn't simply just whipping the card _really_ hard. Well, it is and it isn't. It is if you are super close to the item and don't care about what else you hit. It isn't if you're standing a few yards away and are concerned about accuracy.

"It seems to be all in the wrists," Rachel observes.

Puck feels like there's a potential dirty joke about masturbation and/or lesbians, but can't quite seem to work it out in his head. Maybe he shouldn't have started drinking already.

"They also make metal throwing cards," Rachel says.

"Like cards specifically made for throwing?" Puck asks.

Rachel nods and then flicks a card. "They're metal, but still thin, with a very sharp edge."

"So they're kind of like rectangular throwing stars?" Puck questions.

"I suppose so," Rachel replies.

"That sounds awesome," Puck says. "Where'd you see those?"

"Same place I bought my throwing knives."

"Oh. Cool. We should go there next week," Puck says, flicking another card.

"As if you need to own sharp things that can be thrown," Rachel replies. "I can just picture you getting drunk and deciding to practice throwing them. Except you decide to do it in your bedroom."

"God, if I'm that stupid, I'm either at alcohol poison level drunk or too stupid to graduation."

"I think we're getting better," Rachel says, examining the cards sticking out of the pumpkin. "More are sticking than not."

"Yeah," Puck agrees. "Though our accuracy still sucks."

"I'll worry about that when every card I throw, sticks in the pumpkin," Rachel tells him.

"Well, I really want to be able to put out a candle with just a playing card," Puck says.

"That seems like advanced level card throwing," Rachel replies. "Leaps and bounds ahead of where we are now."

"It's something to aim for," Puck says.

**…**

"No grand scheme this week?" Santana asks, sitting down.

For once, Puck is first to the Friday lunch table. He shakes his head. "I'm giving up."

"I thought last week's card throwing was quite successful," Rachel says as she sits.

"It was," Puck agrees. "But I'm out of ideas. At least ones that you negative nancys would actually approve of."

"Did you just say negative nancys?" Santana questions. She turns to Rachel. "You're a bad influence on him."

"Finally," Rachel says. "You guys are always going on about how he's a bad influence on me."

"So what are you doing tonight then?"

Puck shrugs.

"Sword fighting?" Rachel suggests.

"You have a sword?" Santana asks.

"You know how to sword fight?" Puck asks.

"Well, stage fighting," Rachel replies. "That's close, right?"

Both Santana and Puck shrug.

"I figure with a little adjusting, it could work," Rachel explains.

"But you don't think that's too dangerous?" Puck questions.

"We won't be using real swords," Rachel replies.

"Well, where's the fun in that?"

"All right, then I'll just think of something else," Rachel says.

**…**

"You want me to juggle fire," Puck says, skeptical, looking at the equipment laid out on the grass of Rachel's backyard. "I thought you were against fire."

"I'm against _eating_ it," Rachel retorts. "This is different."

"Shouldn't I learn how to juggle something less dangerous first?"

"That's why we won't set the torches on fire right away, Noah," Rachel explains. "But I thought it'd be easier if you just learn with the item."

"Still," Puck protests. "You were the one so worried about the dangers of fire. And I'm not really in the mood to visit the ER for third degree burns."

"I'm sure at worst, you'd only get second degree burns, Noah," Rachel says. "My reflexes are pretty quick. If you catch fire, I'll put you out in no time."

"I'm just surprised is all," Puck explains.

"Well, as you can see," Rachel says. "I have a fire extinguisher and a bucket of water."

"Yeah, but still—"

"I also have the hose here, waiting," Rachel continues. "The water will be turned on before we start."

"Oh. Well, if you're sure."

"We don't have to, Noah," Rachel says. "I just thought since I had access to everything we need. Plus, it's slightly less dangerous than using a chainsaw and _definitely_ less dangerous than eating fire."

"But I've never really juggled before," Puck replies.

Rachel sighs. "Bon fire, then?"

"Can we roast marshmallows?"

**…**

"I can't believe that you were actually going to attempt to juggle fire," Santana says the next morning, looking out into the backyard at the still left out fire extinguisher, bucket and hose.

"I was going to water down the grass around where Noah would be standing," Rachel replies from the stove.

"Still, Puckerman doesn't even know how to juggle," Santana says. "Seems risky."

"I thought that was what Noah was going for," Rachel explains. "That and avoiding boredom."

"Sounds more like you reverse psych-ed him," Santana replies.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Does that mean you're back to video games, stupid movies and drinking?"

"God, I hope so."

"You really are a bad influence on him, babe," Santana retorts.

"And you always say the sweetest things," Rachel replies.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Believe it or not, this is the second to last fic before Ambitions begins. If there's anything you want answered, explained or followed up on, let me know and I'll do my best to incorporate it.


	47. Bittersweet

**Title:** Bittersweet  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson, Sue, Figgins, Mike/Wendy  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Graduation and other finality related events.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~9,030  
><strong>AN:** So believe it or not, this is the final one and we are now approximately where _Ambitions_ picks up. If you're still around after all this time, I thank you. And if you're one of those that has been here the _whole_ time, when this was just me writing random crap that amused me and also happened to fit together, then I offer my most sincere thanks for the encouragement and for actually sticking around because apparently it's been over three freaking years. I fully admit that it's the only reason I've managed to finish it.

* * *

><p>"It's the beginning of the end, bro," Puck tells Rachel.<p>

"Is that why we're sitting on very cold metal bleachers instead of on my much more comfortable and warm couch?" she asks.

"How can you be cold?" he asks, taking a sip of his beer. "It's almost summer."

"Maybe because you didn't tell me that we'd be sitting outside tonight," Rachel retorts. "Plus the weather's particularly chilly lately in the evening. They're saying that the weather patterns are changing and we'll be experiencing a lot more extremes of all sorts of weather. Which is why it would have been nice to have been warned—"

"Sorry," Puck replies, standing. "Hold on a sec." He stomps down the bleachers and jogs back to his truck where he pulls a McKinley High sweatshirt out from behind his seat. He jogs back and hands it to Rachel.

She accepts it and sniffs it gingerly. "How long has this been in your truck?"

"Not as long as you're thinking," he replies.

She sighs and he wonders which side of her pragmatism will win out. A moment later, she's pulling it over her head. Because it's a XXL, it looks ridiculous on her, but it does allow her to pull her knees up and under the material as well.

"I must really like you," she says.

"Same here, bro," he replies. "Because giving you something that makes you cover up those fabulous legs is a crime."

She rolls her eyes at him. "Always the gentleman, aren't you?"

"Hey, that was a compliment," he says.

"Whatever you say, Noah," she replies. "So why are we here again? It can't be to relive your football glory days. Because those don't really exist."

"Whoa, harsh, Rach."

"Too much?" Rachel asks.

Puck nods. "I'm not sure why we're here, actually. I just... dunno, felt like it."

"Okay."

Puck waits for her to say more. Finally he blurts out, "That's all you're going to say?"

"What else is there?"

"You were like super pissed a minute ago," he points out.

"Because I was cold," Rachel replies. "Now I'm not. And even though this sweatshirt is highly suspect, I am perfectly content as long as I don't think about where it's been."

"Oh. Cool."

They lapse into silence again as they both drink their beers, though Puck finishes three in the time that Rachel almost finishes one.

"Have you decided yet?" Puck asks.

She looks over at him, questioningly, but he just shrugs because in his mind, there's only one thing he could be referring to.

Rachel sighs. "I think I did a couple months ago. I just wasn't ready to admit it to myself."

"That sucks."

"It's the only decision that makes sense, Noah," she huffs angrily.

"Not that," he replies. "I mean, yeah that sucks too, but I meant, having it hang over your head for months. And for the rest of the summer."

"Oh. Yeah. It really does," Rachel agrees.

"I'm here for you, though," he says.

"Thanks Noah."

**…**

"We graduate next week," Brittany says.

They're lounging on Brittany's couch. For once her house is relatively quiet and they're taking advantage of it.

Santana nods, but doesn't reply, her eyes still on the movie.

"It's kind of unbelievable," Brittany continues.

"What's really unbelievable is that you're probably going to place ninth academically," Santana retorts. "How the fuck did_that_ happen?"

Brittany shrugs.

"No seriously, how did that happen?"

Brittany shrugs again. "I really don't know. I mean, really, I don't. I mean, my grades were better than expected, but still... Probably Coach Sylvester."

"No one's going to believe it, though," Santana points out.

"Well, at least I don't have to give a speech," Brittany says.

"I just wish we weren't going to be on opposite sides of the country," Santana replies. "I'm gonna miss you, B."

"Don't talk like that, San," Brittany says. "We have all summer. And now that we don't have to worry about Cheerios in August, it'll be like an extra month of summer for us."

Santana sits up quickly. "You know that I'm like ridiculously proud of you for getting into UCLA, right?"

"Of course, I do," Brittany replies.

"Good," Santana says, relaxing again.

**…**

Rachel is definitely going to miss Sunday dinners at the Lopez house. They've been so warm and accepting of her and Rachel hates that she's eventually going to lose that. She just hopes that they eventually forgive her for breaking Santana's heart.

"I still can't believe that you girls are graduating in a week," Clara says over dinner. "It feels like just yesterday that Santana joined Cheerios."

Rachel nods. "Yes, though some days seemed to drag on forever, I still can't believe that it's almost over. I've been dreaming of this day for too long now."

"Yeah," Santana agrees. "I can't wait to get out of Lima."

"Your eagerness to leave us could be considered hurtful," Tomás tells them.

"You know that's not why we want to go, Tomás," Rachel assures him. "Certainly in my case, Lima hasn't been the most welcoming place to grow up."

"Don't act like me wanting to get out of Lima is something new, papa," Santana adds.

Tomás grins. "Your ambition is one of my favorite things about you."

Santana blushes slightly and Rachel is just barely able to hold back her "awww".

Clara, on the other hand, doesn't hold back. "We are very proud of you, dear. You too, Rachel darling."

"Thank you," Rachel says quietly, trying to ignore the tightening in her chest.

**…**

Rachel has no idea why Figgins would summon her to his office, bright and early Monday morning, but she's feeling no fear, even though he could very well keep her from graduating for any number of reasons. Just because he's afraid of Coach Sylvester, doesn't mean he doesn't still want retribution for the two years of pranks she put him through.

His secretary tells her to go right in, but she still knocks to announce her presence. He looks up with a grimace and gestures her to sit.

"Ms. Berry."

"Principal Figgins."

"I suppose you're wondering what I call you here for," he says.

Rachel nods.

"Well, let me reassure you that it isn't to inform you that won't be graduating."

Rachel lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I'm glad to hear it."

"But don't think it's because I think you shouldn't have been expelled for what you've pulled over the years, Ms. Berry," he continues.

"I don't," she replies.

Figgins nods. "Well you're not an idiot, so I assumed as much."

"No offense, Principal Figgins," Rachel says. "But why am I here?"

"With graduation looming, I just wanted to make sure that there won't be any... surprises at the ceremony."

"Well," Rachel replies. "I can only speak for myself, but, I am unaware of any surprises."

"I see," he says.

"I'm simply being honest," Rachel explains.

He nods. "Just make sure your... associates don't give me any trouble either."

"I'll do my best."

"You better do more than that," he replies. "Because I will be holding you responsible."

"That's hardly fair, Principal Figgins."

"I wasn't aware that I had to be fair, Ms. Berry," he replies. "Especially considering what you put me through these past few years."

"I could say the same about the first two years I was here," Rachel retorts.

"That was hardly my fault," Figgins replies. "That blame lies in the hands of Sue Sylvester. And yet, now, you seem to be... aligned with her."

"We've come to an understanding."

"And then, of course, there's Ms. Lopez," Figgins continues.

"What about her?" Rachel asks, warily.

"She is a concern, as much as you are," Figgins replies. "Perhaps more so because she is a... product of Sue Sylvester's tyrannicalness."

"So she doesn't fall under the category of my associates?" Rachel questions. "Then who does?"

"Please don't insult me by playing dumb, Ms. Berry."

Rachel sighs. "Look, Principal Figgins. Can I promise that absolutely no pranks will take place at graduation? Of course not. Contrary to popular belief, my influence at this school is not all encompassing. However, I can promise that myself and my... associates, including Santana, will not be involved."

"That is hardly reassurance, Ms. Berry," he replies.

"I didn't realize I was so powerful that I could control the entire student body," Rachel muses. "If I'd realize that I have that kind of power..."

"I certainly hope you're not threatening me, Ms. Berry," Figgins says.

"Oh, is that not what we're doing here?" Rachel questions. "I apologize for misreading the situation."

"You're quite arrogant for someone with so little power," Figgins tells her.

"Perhaps," Rachel replies. "Perhaps."

Figgins growls in frustration. "Fine, Ms. Berry," he says. "This is your last warning. If there is _any_ sort of chaos at graduation, I am holding you solely responsible. And not only will you fail to graduate, so will all of your fellow glee clubbers."

"What possible justification could you have for that?" Rachel scoffs. "Not to mention that I have no intention of—"

"You may have masterminded these pranks and claimed sole responsibility, but I know that they are all your lackeys and so for blindly following you, they will go down as well."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Then you really should update your intel, Principal Figgins. We are not the united front you paint us as."

"Mutiny?" Figgins chuckles. "I hear that sometimes happens in dictatorships."

"If you're done attempting to bully me," Rachel says, standing. "I really should be going."

"You haven't been dismissed," Figgins protests.

"I have class," Rachel replies. "Don't you have a school to run, _sir_?"

Figgins scowls at her. "Fine. You may go. But remember what I've said, Ms. Berry."

"Oh don't worry, _sir_," Rachel says as she stops in the doorway. "I definitely won't forget."

**…**

Rachel needs to talk to someone about the conversation she had with Figgins and curses the fact that most of her circle have short fuses; not that hers isn't just as bad. It is the reason that she's in this precarious position in the first place. Spotting Mike in the hall before lunch, reminds Rachel that she has a least level headed person in her life.

"Mike," she calls out.

"Hey Rach," he grins. "What's up?"

"I really need to talk to someone and you're the most coolheaded individual I know."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Do you mind?"

Mike shakes his head.

"Good," Rachel replies, dragging him towards the choir room.

**…**

Wendy is actually sitting with the rest of the Cheerios and not with Mike today and so Missy has taken the opportunity to try and pull her back into her Rachel Berry obsession.

"Are you ever going to explain to me what your fixation on her is about?" Wendy finally asks, exasperated.

Missy looks hurt.

Wendy rolls her eyes. "Oh please."

Missy pouts and then smirks. "Fine."

Wendy waits but after a full minute, her patience runs out. "Well?"

Missy shrugs. "I just really hate Lopez. And her girlfriend is fucking hot. And she totally doesn't deserve her. We all know how the Cheerios used to dump on her. And then there's the fact that she's the damn prankster. I don't know. I just... it's not fair."

"That's still no reason for you to be so..."

Missy shrugs. "So I have a problem with my infatuations becoming obsessions. At least I'm aware of the problem."

"Yeah, well, no offense, Mis," Wendy says. "But I'm not sure that Rachel would be interested in you with or without Santana."

Missy glares at her. "What makes you say that?"

Wendy shrugs. "I've just had a change to get to know her while dating Mike... and I just don't think she'd be interested in you."

Missy looks insulted and Wendy can't help but giggle. "Would you have preferred that I lied?"

"Of course not."

"Then you need to chill out, Mis," Wendy tells her. "Otherwise, Coach Sylvester is going to be on your case."

"Is that a threat?"

"They graduate this week, you know," Wendy says as if she's talking about the weather. "And I doubt that Rachel will ever come back to Lima."

"Hmph."

"Not that I blame her," Wendy continues.

"Yeah," Missy says.

"Next year will be easier that way," Wendy tells her. "Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

Missy doesn't reply.

**…**

The longer Rachel remains quiet and eats her lunch, the more Mike worries. Whatever has her worried has to be fairly big if she's concerned about her hot tempered girlfriend and best friend.

"I'm sorry to spring this on you, Mike," Rachel says finally. "But I need to discuss it with someone and as someone who's involved, yet still not insanely impetuous, you seem to be the perfect choice."

"Your compliments are..."

"I apologize," Rachel says. "I just..."

"It's fine, Rachel," Mike replies. "Really. I don't mind."

Rachel nods. "This morning when I first arrived, I was summoned to Principal Figgins' office."

"Oh."

"And he threaten to ban my graduating if a prank is pulled at the ceremony," Rachel continues.

"Well, that's not that big of deal," Mike says. "I mean, it's not like you were planning anything, anyway, right?"

"Agreed. However, I may have let my hubris get the better of me," Rachel replies, looking embarrassed.

"Meaning?"

"I may have threatened him back," Rachel admits.

"How?" Mike questions. "I mean, what could you threaten him with?"

"It was vague and ominous," Rachel says. "It just sort of slipped out."

"Oh," Mike says. "So now he's following through?"

Rachel shakes her head. "He said that if anything happens at graduation, even if I'm not behind it, he won't let anyone in glee club graduate."

"That's..."

"It is," Rachel nods. "And so I was hoping you could keep your ears open, in case one of the dozens of morons decides to try something."

"I'd be glad to, Rach," Mike replies. "But I don't think anything will happen."

"Why not?"

"Because... no one wants to try something and have it not be as good as yours. I mean, not only did you humiliate the administration, but you also did it to the extreme. If someone else tries to pull something and it's not as good as yours..."

"So you're saying that the fact that this school is filled with imbeciles is finally a good thing?" Rachel questions.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," Mike replies. "I mean, I can ask around. After all, underestimating the stupidity of the students at McKinley can be hazardous. I'll check with Wendy too. But I think, for once, we might be okay."

"That... is not the reassurance I was expecting," Rachel says.

"You don't sound relieved," Mike observes.

"I am," she tells him. "Really. I just... it'd be one thing if it was just me, but the fact that he's going after the other members of glee..."

"It's definitely unfair," Mike agrees.

"Would it be wrong to go after him once graduation has occurred?"

Mike wasn't expecting that. "Ummm..."

"I mean, I know I should just let it go," Rachel continues. "We're graduating and getting the hell out of here."

Mike nods.

"On the other hand, I've felt a certain amount of validation in retribution," Rachel explains. "It seems I'm not as magnanimous as I originally thought."

"You're a teenage girl, Rach," Mike replies. "Not Jesus Christ."

"I'm also Jewish," Rachel adds.

"You know what I mean."

"I do," Rachel nods. "Perhaps I should table that decision for another day. When I'm not as... defensive."

"Probably."

"He is fighting, dirty, though, right?" Rachel asks.

"He is," Mike agrees. "Though he probably feels like he has no choice."

"You are not allowed to defend him."

"Right. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Mike," Rachel says. "Thanks for... well, everything."

Mike grins. "You're welcome, Rach."

**…**

"I'm sorry I can't make it back for you graduation," Alyson tells Quinn.

"Why?" Quinn asks, flopping onto her bed, cell phone cradled against her cheek. "It's just a stupid ceremony. I'm sure you had to suffer through one of your own."

"Yeah, I did," Alyson agrees. "But it's still a big deal."

"So is passing all your finals," Quinn replies.

Alyson groans causing Quinn to giggle.

"It'll all be over in a week," Quinn reminds her.

"And then I get to come home to my loving family," Alyson retorts.

"Josh and Kat will be happy to see you," Quinn says. "And we should be able to hang out plenty this summer."

"True," Alyson agrees. "That will be nice."

Conversation turns to the insanity that is Sue Sylvester during the last week of school. Losing some of her most intense and impressive Cheerios is having an obvious effect on the coach, though no sentiment has been expressed. Not that Quinn expected any. Still it's nice to know that Coach Sylvester will miss them, even if it's in relation to how it will affect her.

In comparison, Alyson's coach seems like a kitten. Despite the eight national titles for the Cheerios, Alyson seems relieved that she never had to experience anything like Coach Sylvester; of course, after hearing stories, most people say that.

When they hang up an hour later, Quinn wonders what it means that there's been no real discussion of the future beyond the first few weeks of summer. And do they need to have one? Santana and Berry haven't had that conversation, though she's not sure she wants to model her relationship after the two of them. Quinn just doesn't want to be the one to bring it up. She hopes that doesn't make her too big of a coward.

**…**

Despite being ecstatic that both her fathers are home for a few days and that they plan on attending her graduation, Rachel still feels a bit awkward around them. She's so used to having the house to herself, that it almost feels claustrophobic when they're around. It also feels like a step back for her to have to report and justify her whereabouts to them. It probably doesn't help that knowing that they disapprove of so many of her choices lately leaves Rachel feeling like a disappointment.

And of course, the three of them are acting like nothing's wrong, avoiding sensitive topics like Santana or Rachel pulling pranks.

Still, she loves them dearly and vice versa, so she sits down to family dinner with a smile plastered on her face. They talk about safe things like work and glee while Rachel is very careful to not mention anything that might upset them. It's a pleasant, yet mostly superficial meal, making Rachel ache for her childhood when she could do no wrong in her dads' eyes, who she believed created all the stars just for her. Watching her daddy out of her peripheral, makes Rachel believe he misses it as well.

After, she and her dad begin clearing the table; daddy has a call that _has_ to made at exactly seven, leaving the two of them to clean up.

"Have we told you how proud we are of you?" Rachel's dad asks her.

"I assumed as much," she replies.

"Well we are," he says. "You haven't let this place get you down or anything hold you back."

Rachel appreciates what he's trying to do, but it feels a bit like he's down playing all that she's gone through; not to mention the fact, that she faced quite a bit of that without the support of her fathers. "Yes, well, I've told you both as much."

"He'll come around, Rach," her dad tells her. "Now that it's obvious that you're still on the right track."

Rachel sometimes wonders what her fathers would do if she decided to become a doctor instead. Would that still be considered the right track? "Okay."

"Things'll be better once you're in New York," he continues.

"I hope so," Rachel replies. "I'm not sure I could stand it if daddy hates me forever."

"Honey, he doesn't hate you," her dad assures her. "He just doesn't agree with your choices and isn't quite used to disagreeing with you."

He would be if they'd been around more, Rachel thinks. "I know, dad."

"Just don't be so hard on your old dads, honey," her dad continues. "We are trying."

Rachel sighs and nods, not knowing how else to respond.

**…**

"So I heard something hilarious during lunch," Wendy tells Mike.

They're at Breadstix for dinner, trying to spend as much time together as possible. Though it hasn't been said, Wendy is expecting the relationship to end when Mike leaves for New York in four months.

"Apparently the hockey team is going to try and pull a prank at your graduation," Wendy laughs.

The look of horror that spreads over Mike's face is definitely not the reaction she was going for.

"Do you, uh, know what they're going to do?" Mike asks.

"Um, I'm not sure that _they_ know," Wendy replies. "They were still arguing when lunch ended."

"Well, what were some of the ideas they had?" Mike presses.

"Oh, well, the big winner was putting glue on all the chairs, but obviously, the glue would dry before anyone sat on it, the same with paint. Though since that would be obvious because it would be a different color... The last I heard, they were just going to throw a barrage of pee balloons."

"They said the word, _barrage_?" Mike questions.

"Uh, no," Wendy says. "That's my word choice. I think they said 'launch a shit ton of pee balloons', actually."

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you okay?" Wendy asks. "You look kind of nauseous."

"I'm fine," Mike replies. "But I'm going to have to know exactly who you were talking to."

"Uh... all right," Wendy says.

**…**

Becky leads Rachel directly into Coach Sylvester's office. For once Rachel doesn't have to wait for the woman to finish with her previous task. However, neither speak, each studying the other. Rachel blinks first, causing Coach Sylvester to smirk.

"Berry," she says. "I'm only going to say this once, but I'm going to miss the havoc that you've wrought on this school. McKinley will be terribly dull without you next year. I'll have to amuse myself by torturing glee more than I used to."

"Couldn't you leave the others alone?" Rachel questions. "They've done nothing to you."

Coach Sylvester grins. "Perhaps. After all, I'd hate to be predictable."

"Only a tool would accuse you of that," Rachel retorts.

Coach Sylvester just smiles. "Now for the real reason I asked you here."

"Asked isn't the word I'd use," Rachel says.

"Nonetheless," Coach Sylvester continues. "I was hoping that you could leave me with some detailed suggestions of pranks for next year."

Rachel smirks, but nods. "I could do that."

"But?" Coach Sylvester prompts.

"If I give you some... ideas, it would mean you leaving the glee kids alone and not allowing your Cheerios to rule the school so harshly, like they did before."

Coach Sylvester sighs.

"No slushies, at the very least," Rachel continues.

"You really know how to take away all my fun, Berry," Coach Sylvester replies. "The only reason I allowed Lopez's little ban is because both you and the results amused me."

"Lucky me."

"Where's the fun for me now?" Coach Sylvester questions.

"Well, you could inform the glee kids that it's because of myself or Santana that they're not being bullied or harassed and remind them that Mr. Schue _still_ isn't doing anything to protect them," Rachel replies.

"Why Berry," Coach Sylvester smirks. "Is that a hint of bitterness I hear in your voice?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel says. "However, being able to... lord over Mr. Schuester with your... goodness is something he'll never expect."

"That's certainly true," Coach Sylvester muses. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

"He will definitely hate the fact that Santana was able to do what he wasn't," Rachel thinks out loud. "You know he was absolutely certain that Santana was the prankster until Figgins caught us."

"A compliment in my book," Coach Sylvester says.

"Another difference between the two of you," Rachel replies.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Berry," Coach Sylvester smirks.

"So do we have a deal, Coach?" Rachel asks.

"We have a deal," Coach Sylvester agrees. "But that means you give me _at least_ ten ideas and they better be as impressive as your previous attempts."

Rachel grins. "They will be, Coach. I had plenty of things planned, just not the time, labor force or energy to try them."

"Excellent," Coach Sylvester says. "That's exactly what I was hoping to hear."

**…**

Mike's spent the night thinking about what Wendy told him about the hockey players. And though he hates to do it, he sees no other alternative, but to go to Santana with the issue. He knows that Rachel chose to tell him because she worries about Santana's temper, but Mike thinks S's protective streak should work in their favor. Santana got the entire school to stop slushing people. Plus what she did to Bender and Willis.

Though following that line of thought, Mike has to wonder why the hockey team is even considering this. Maybe they figure Santana won't retaliate after graduation; after all, why would she care?

From what Mike knows of Santana, that's a stupid assumption, but McKinley isn't known for its students' high IQs.

But knowing what he knows, something has to be done and so Mike spends his lunch hunting down Santana and explaining what he knows.

**…**

"I really wish that we didn't have to break up."

Brittany continues staring at her English essay. "Well, we don't have to."

Marisa sighs. They're stretched out on their stomachs, side by side on her bed. Her bedroom door is open so she can hear if the twins are causing too much trouble and though she's the one that started this discussion, she still wishes for a bit more privacy for the conversation. But at least her brothers seem to have become bored with spying on her for the moment.

"You really want to try a long distance relationship?" Marisa questions.

"It's not ideal," Brittany admits.

"I appreciate you trying to spare my feelings," Marisa replies. "But we've always know that we have an expiration date."

"That seems cynical," Brittany observes.

"I like to think it's Rachel's pragmatism," Marisa tells her.

Brittany's quiet, eyes still on her essay and so Marisa shrugs and returns to her Algebra.

"Do you wish I hadn't asked you out?" Brittany asks quietly.

"Because you're leaving and I'm staying?" Marisa clarifies.

Brittany nods.

Marisa's not sure how to answer that. "Are you?"

"Definitely not," Brittany replies. "I just wish things didn't have to end."

"Me too."

"You could come to California," Brittany offers.

"That's two years away," Marisa points out.

"So?" Brittany shrugs.

"And what? You're going to wait for me?"

"Well, no," Brittany replies. "Just like I don't expect you to wait for me."

"Because there are _so_ many options in Lima," Marisa retorts.

"I'm just really going to miss you," Brittany says.

"Same here."

"And I want us to stay friends," Brittany continues.

"Because you're going to California all by your lonesome?" Marisa asks.

"It's not the only reason," Brittany pouts.

"Then I want that too."

"We're not breaking up yet, though, are we?" Brittany questions.

"I wasn't planning on it," Marisa replies. "After all, we have a whole summer, right?"

Brittany nods.

"You know you're going to kick ass out there, don't you?"

"I just can't believe I'm graduating this week," Brittany replies. "There were times that it felt like it would never happen."

"You're going to drop the dumb blonde act too, right?" Marisa questions.

"It is no longer useful," Brittany assures her.

"Good," Marisa says. "Because it's so beneath you."

Brittany shrugs. "It felt right at the time."

"Maybe you could even drop it for the rest of the week," Marisa suggests.

"Not worth the effort," Brittany replies. "When did you get so..."

It's Marisa's turn to shrug. "I guess knowing that the hottest Cheerio in the school chose me, bolsters my confidence."

Brittany grins. "Well keep it up. It's super hot."

Marisa groans. "Don't look at me like that. I'm supposed to be watching the twins."

Brittany pouts dramatically. "So we can't make out?"

"My mom will be home in an hour," Marisa says.

Brittany's pout increases.

"And then we can do whatever you want since we won't be bothered for a while," Marisa finishes.

Brittany's grin is downright lecherous. "Something to look forward to."

**…**

"Not that I'm complaining," Kat says. "Because I'm not, really. But why are we at the park instead of your house?"

They're both sitting under a large tree in the park near Kat's house.

"My dads are home," Rachel replies.

"That's a good thing, right?" Kat questions.

"It is," Rachel agrees. "They're here for my graduation."

"You seem less excited than I expected," Kat observes.

Rachel nods. "I'm glad that they're going to attend my graduation. However, since they're home so sporadically, I've gotten used to having the house to myself. It's just a bit of an adjustment."

"_Parents_," Kat says.

Rachel chuckles. "You're absolutely correct, though I fear that you're too young to already feel that way."

"Have you met my parents?"

"Touché," Rachel replies.

**…**

Being dragged to Chang's house by Santana is a surprising way to start his afternoon, but Puck doesn't question it. But as he sits at the kitchen table, he does experience a bit of déjà vu since it feels very much like a planning session. He's surprised that Brittany isn't there as well, but Santana wants it to be a small operation. Puck agrees that that's a good idea, though it would probably help if he knew what the hell is going on.

"Figgins really said that?"

Mike nods. "That's what Rach said."

Puck growls.

"She didn't want you guys to worry," Mike continues. "Or, you know, go on a rampage."

"Except now we have to," Santana says. "There's no way in hell that I'm not graduating because of those dip shits."

"Do you think they're doing it to get back at Rachel?" Mike asks.

"Doubt it," Santana replies. "They probably want to do something big and impressive to prove that they're not losers."

"Wanting to throw pee balloons in the first place makes them losers in my book," Mike says.

"So I assume you have a plan, S?" Puck questions. "Or why else would you have called this meeting?"

"Called this meeting?" Mike scoffs.

"Calm you shit, _Pucky_," Santana says. "Of course I have a plan."

**…**

"Rachel, do you have a moment to talk?"

"Sure, Mr. Schuester," Rachel replies. "Um, here?"

Will looks around. Though the hallway is mostly empty, he still feels Sue's spies. "How about my office."

Rachel nods, following him, full of curiosity, hoping she'll still have enough time to eat her lunch after.

"I was hoping we could touch base once more before you graduate," Mr. Schuester says as Rachel sits down.

"All right," Rachel replies.

It's obvious that he's expecting her to say something, but since this chat was his idea, Rachel isn't going to start.

"Um, yes, well," he says after a long, awkward minute. "I think we've come a long way these past three years."

"I agree."

He's still waiting for her to say more, but seems to catch on much quicker this time that she won't be.

"And, even though our relationship hasn't always been... smooth, I still hope that you think of me as your mentor."

"Um..."

"Please feel to speak freely," he prompts.

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "But I've never considered you my mentor. Finn's perhaps, but never mine."

"Oh."

"Everything's worked out though," Rachel tries.

"Please just tell me that you don't consider _Sue_ your mentor," he pleads.

Rachel shakes her head, because she doesn't, per say. "Of course not, Mr. Schuester. She and I have very different approaches and goals."

"Oh. Good."

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Rachel questions when the silence becomes awkward again.

"Uh, yeah, it is," he replies.

Rachel has a feeling he was expecting a lot more from this conversation, but since she's taken him by surprise, he has no idea what to say. She probably shouldn't find that so amusing.

"All right," she says, standing. "Well, thank you for... this."

"Of course Rachel."

She quickly leaves before he can say anything else, hoping she still has enough time to eat her lunch.

**…**

Tracking down Ben Williams the next day is easy enough. And lucky for them, he's alone, so Puck and Mike each grab an arm and slam him against the wall.

"Hey douchenozzle," Santana greets, stepping in front of him, bottle of chloroform ready. "We need to talk."

"Is this the part where you threaten me, Lopez?" he scoffs. "Oh no, what horrible thing will you do to me?"

Santana chuckles. "Now I understand why you're not scared." She holds up the bottle of chloroform for him to see. "Because you seem to think you'll be given a choice." Santana grabs the bandana sticking out of Puck's back pocket and balls it up.

Williams visibly gulps, but continues to glare at Santana.

"And the only reason we didn't just sneak up on you," Santana says. "Is because I wanted to make sure you _knew_ who was doing this to you."

"What the fucking _fuck_ is that supposed to mean Lopez?"

"It was nice knowing you, Williams," Santana tells him. "Well, not really, but now hardly seems like the time for the truth. Seems cruel that the last thing he hears is what a waste of breath he is."

Mike and Puck nod. "Definitely." "Agreed."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Williams scoffs. "Being hit in the head with a hockey puck twice, doesn't mean I'm a retard."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Believe what you want, moron. But I have a bottle of chloroform and a rag. Plus, two guys strong enough to drag you anywhere." Santana grins. "And none of us particularly like you. So there's that."

"Whatever, bitch," William retorts. "You don't have the fucking _balls_."

Twisting open the bottle, Santana just smirks. "Well, I guess we're about to find out."

**…**

The end of the school year is always a trying time to be a principal and it's with a sense of relief that Figgins exits his office on the last day of the school year. The campus is almost completely empty, the only people left being the janitorial staff as they prepare for the next day's ceremony.

When Figgins arrives at his car, he's shocked to find a student duct taped, naked to a crucifix made of hockey sticks and "was going to prank ceremony" written in permanent marker on his chest, leaning against it.

Ripping the tape off his mouth, Figgins asks, "Is that true, Mr. Williams?"

"What? Course not," Williams replies.

"Then why would someone do this to you?" Figgins questions. "Make this accusation?"

"Payback, I guess."

"For what, Mr. Williams?"

"Um..."

"No, really," Figgins says. "I'm curious."

"Uh..."

"Well?"

"No idea, sir," Williams sighs.

"Well then, Mr. Williams," Figgins replies. "I think you and I need to have a discussion with your parents."

"Yes sir."

**…**

"You sure that you don't want to spend tonight with Marisa?" Santana asks Brittany as they wait for Quinn to show up.

Brittany shakes her head. "We have plenty of time."

"Are you guys breaking up?"

Brittany nods. "End of the summer."

"Oh," Santana replies. "You seem... fine with it."

"Well, I'm not happy about it," Brittany says. "But what choice do we have?"

Santana shrugs.

"I hope you realize how lucky you are, S," Brittany continues. "You and Rachy don't have to deal with that conundrum."

Santana can't help but smile. "No, I suppose we don't."

"I kind of love the fact that Rachel still makes you a big soft gooey marshmallow," Brittany smirks.

Santana rolls her eyes, but doesn't dispute Brittany's claim.

**…**

When Figgins leaves the Williams' house, he feels confident that there will be no interruptions during the ceremony tomorrow.

It seems like threatening Ms. Berry was a wise move on his part. Not only has it stopped Berry and her cohorts from pulling something, it also, apparently, made her vigilant about stopping any and all other possible attempts.

Figgins is so pleased that he doesn't even mind that he had to suspend someone on the last day of the year and all the extra paperwork that the move entails.

He won't be completely relaxed until everything tomorrow happens smoothly, but, hopefully, tonight will be a bit less restless for him.

**…**

"I would have thought that you'd want to spend tonight with Berry," Quinn says as Santana hands her a beer.

"Rachy understands," Brittany answers. "Besides, she's going to be stuck with Santana in New York. She deserves a hiatus."

"Nice, B," Santana retorts. "Thanks."

"That's true," Quinn muses. "She's going to be stuck with you for a long time now. She's probably glad for the reprieve."

Santana rolls her eyes. "You're both hilarious."

**…**

"I'm honored that you want to spend tonight with me and not Lopez," Puck says.

"She's with Quinn and Brittany," Rachel explains.

"Ah yes," he replies. "The Unholy Trinity."

"Like you haven't worshiped at that alter."

"Damn bro," he says. "Jealous?"

"Of your drunken fumbling?" Rachel scoffs. "Hardly."

"I know it's hard, Rach," Puck says. "But if it helps, I think you're making the right decision."

"Yes, well, thank you," Rachel replies. "I just don't want to regret it."

"You won't."

"You sound incredibly sure," Rachel says. "May I ask you something?"

"You know you can, bro."

"Something possibly painful."

Puck sighs. "You can ask."

"Do you regret giving up Beth?"

"Shit, Rachel," he says. "Really?"

She doesn't respond.

"Things work out the way they're supposed to," he replies. "And we can only move forward."

"You're awfully introspective tonight," Rachel says.

"Blame it on the beer."

"It's nice to know that even you aren't immune to the pensiveness of graduation," Rachel tells him.

"Hey, I can grow."

**…**

"Thanks for the heads up about the hockey team," Mike tells Wendy.

"Oh sure," Wendy replies. "Though I didn't realize that you needed a heads up."

"Well no one really did," Mike admits. "So that's some good luck on my part."

"Do I even want to know what you did with that info?" Wendy asks.

Mike shrugs. "All that matters is that it's been taken care of," he says.

"If I didn't already know what Rachel and Santana are capable of, I'd think you worked for the Asian mafia or something," Wendy informs Mike.

Mike chuckles. "Yeah, I guess that does sound a bit ominous, huh?"

Wendy nods. "I'm going to miss that next year."

"Yeah, I'm going to miss it too. Just having to worry about college will almost seem mundane," Mike agrees. He pauses. "Do we need to, uh, talk about next year and… us?"

"I don't think so," Wendy replies. "I mean, I don't see any other option. And we've never been _that_ serious."

"Yeah, I suppose not," Mike says.

"Though next year is definitely going to be boring as hell," Wendy says.

"Knowing this place, someone will step up to keep things interesting."

"God, I hope so," Wendy sighs.

**…**

After the ceremony, Rachel receives hugs from her fathers and they take a dozen pictures of her in her cap and gown and all the usual tension between them seems to have melted away. Rachel knows her dads do care, but most days it's difficult to remember, however today is a joyous day. In spite of this, it's quickly dimmed when Rachel mentions Santana and the mood quickly shifts. Suddenly, her dads have places to be. She nods and tries not to look too disappointed. She knows the reason they're leaving is to avoid any sort of confrontation, especially one in public and she appreciates that. She's not in the mood for _another_ disagreement about her choice of girlfriend. Though, she does wonder about their level of loathing for Santana, that they can't even keep their temper on this happy day. A small part of her, the part that's always craved their approval and has shrunk over the years, but not totally disappeared, wants to tell them about her plans to end things with Santana. But her pride, which has only grown over the years, doesn't want to give them the satisfaction; especially since it's not for the reasons they have. Her reasons are her own and she knows that no one else will understand her logic. But mostly, she know that she couldn't bear to see the joy on their faces from the announcement, so she simply bids them goodbye and decides to seek out Santana and her family. That will definitely cheer her up.

**…**

The ceremony can't be over fast enough for Santana. Being done with McKinley is even more of a relief than she expected it to be. She spends most of the ceremony daydreaming, while watching Rachel sitting rows in front of her. Even her girlfriend looks bored, so Santana doesn't feel that guilty about not paying attention.

Afterwards, her parents insist on tons of pictures which she doesn't mind too much, despite her very snarky protests.

Rachel appears sooner than Santana expected and it's obvious from her expression that her fathers have once again disappointed her.

Santana's mom seems to sense the same thing and begins to distract Rachel with congratulations and pictures, which her father quickly joins, making Santana extremely grateful for her parents. She doesn't even mind how obvious it is that Rachel is their favorite.

**…**

Rachel drove herself to McKinley; despite her fathers' protests. Personally she doesn't see what the big deal is. She's just glad she won that argument and since her fathers took off without her; Rachel is willing to bet, that they are, as well. Though it is mostly their fault in Rachel's opinion. They can't leave her to her own devices for years and then expect her to so easily fall back in line.

Now as she finds herself with the Lopezs', she's especially glad because it means that she and Santana can leave together. They've barely seen each other lately and though that is by their own mutual design, Rachel has really missed Santana. She supposes the weight of the impending break up is the largest factor. Rachel thought making the decision would help her feel a bit more at ease, instead she feels infinitely worse.

But today is a happy occasion, so Rachel tries to shake it off and just enjoy the rest of the day.

**…**

Rachel's honestly not sure whose house she's at. Brittany had picked her up, having already gotten Quinn and Santana. The party is already well underway when they arrive and so they head into the kitchen, looking for drinks. Figuring someone should stay sober to drive them home, Rachel makes herself a very weak rum and Coke before she begins wandering. It seems like every other party she's been to, except that people seem even more determined than usual to get wasted as fast as possible. Apparently now that they have their diplomas, keeping their few remaining brain cells doesn't matter anymore.

"You say that as if they ever cared about that, Berry," Quinn says. "Personally, I'm surprised that most of these idiots managed to graduate."

"Because McKinley has such high standards," Rachel retorts.

"I'm a bit disappointed in you, Berry," Quinn continues.

"And why is that?" Rachel inquires.

"I thought for sure that you would have pulled some elaborate prank at graduation," Quinn explains. "Go out with a bang or whatever."

"I did have one in mind," Rachel replies. "But Figgins wouldn't have let me graduate."

"So?"

"_So_?" Rachel repeats. "So I wouldn't have been able to attend Julliard."

"Not to mention the shame of being expelled from McKinley," Noah adds, joining them. "I don't think anyone's ever been expelled. And there's been some crazy shit pulled there and that's not even including what me and my bro pulled."

"Just because you were the barely there brawn to Berry's brain, doesn't mean that you get to be smug, Puck," Quinn retorts.

"Whatever, Q," Noah scoffs. "You're just jealous that I had more fun than you."

"Which definitely shows in your GPA," Quinn retorts.

"Like that matters anymore, Fabray."

"Just because—"

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Rachel interjects. "But maybe you two should have another drink."

"Good idea, babe," Santana says, plopping into Rachel's lap.

"I can't wait until I never have to see you again," Quinn tells Puck.

"Love you too, Q."

**…**

"You guys hear about Williams?" Tina asks.

"The moronic captain of the hockey team? What about him?" Quinn questions.

"He got suspended yesterday," Tina informs them.

"The last day of the year?" Quinn scoffs. "Idiot."

"I heard it was cause he was going to prank graduation," Finn adds.

"And _Figgins_ caught him?" Rachel questions.

"Course not," Puck says. "Me, S and Chang took care of it."

"Shut the fuck up, Puckerman," Santana snaps.

"Why would you do that?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah," Tina adds. "Why?"

"You know why," Santana tells Rachel.

Rachel sighs. "I take it that Mike told you?"

"He had no choice, babe," Santana replies.

"What the hell are you two babbling about?" Quinn asks.

Rachel sighs. "Nothing."

"Rach," Puck prompts.

"Is this about Figgins not letting any of us graduate?" Brittany asks.

Rachel sighs again and rolls her eyes.

"Figures," Santana laughs.

"What does that mean?" Tina questions. "Any of us?"

"Figgins is an ass," Santana says.

"Yeah, duh," Finn pipes up. "Even I knew that."

"He wasn't going to let any of us graduate if a prank was pulled at the ceremony," Puck tells them.

"Even if Rachel didn't pull the prank?" Tina asks.

"Apparently anything crazy that now occurs is my fault," Rachel retorts.

"And when you say, us?" Quinn prompts.

Rachel sighs again. "All the seniors in glee."

"He can't do that," Finn protests. "Can he do that?"

"He definitely can do that," Artie says.

"Well it doesn't matter now, guys," Rachel says.

"Still, we should prank him," Artie suggests.

"Why?" Santana asks.

"Because."

"The last time Rachel listened to you about a prank, she got caught," Brittany points out.

"That wasn't my fault," Artie protests.

"It was bound to happen eventually," Rachel adds.

"Exactly," Artie agrees.

"I think we should prank Figgins," Finn says.

"You would," Santana scoffs.

"It'll be a bonding experience," Finn continues.

"We don't need to bond anymore, Finn," Quinn snaps.

"It could be our last hurrah together," Brittany pipes up.

"Please don't help, B," Santana says.

"I think we should do it," Artie says.

"It could be fun," Tina agrees.

"One last prank for old times' sake, bro," Puck adds.

Rachel sighs.

"That's five, Rach," Artie announces.

"I bet Kurt would go for it," Finn adds.

"Chang would be up for it too, I'm sure," Puck offers.

"You don't know that, Noah."

"Tell me that you don't have an idea already," Puck replies. "And I'll drop it."

"That is so unfair," Rachel protests. "You _know_ that I do. Otherwise you wouldn't have said that."

"Does that mean that we're doing it?" Finn asks.

Rachel sighs again. "Only if _everyone_ is in."

"Awesome," Finn says, jumping up. "I'm on it."

"Don't let them push you into this, babe," Santana hisses.

"There's no way that _every_one's going to agree, tiger," Rachel whispers back.

**…**

"Everyone's in," Finn announces twenty minutes later.

"Seriously?" Santana questions. "Even Mercedes?"

"Yep," Finn replies.

"Unbelievable."

"Finn feels like he missed out before," Brittany points out. "I bet the others feel the same way."

"You're in too, Q?" Santana asks.

Quinn shrugs. "Why not?"

Santana sighs, causing Quinn to smirk.

"It's fine, San," Rachel replies. "I should have expected it."

"It's just... what if you get in trouble again? Coach won't be around to save you."

"Awww, S, that is so sweet," Brittany exclaims.

"Hush, B," Santana tells her, trying to hide her blush behind her plastic cup.

**…**

Rachel actually feels a bit sorry for Figgins; but apparently it has to be done. She's not exactly sure why, since any leverage Figgins has over her is now gone. Rachel even swears that she saw grudging respect in his eyes when he shook her hand at graduation.

Okay, so maybe it's a matter of pride; no one would disagree that her arrogance is high. She's been telling herself it's because Figgins threatened her friends, but there's a small part of her that wonders if it's something else beyond that and Finn's pushing.

"Don't worry about it, babe," Santana tells her as they quietly approach Figgins' house. "What's done is done."

"But we haven't done anything yet."

"Where did you get the cement mixer from?" Santana questions, obviously trying to distract her.

"You don't think we're going too far?" Rachel responds.

"You're probably asking the wrong person," Santana replies. "After all, I was schooled by Coach Sylvester. This is definitely mild in her book."

"Let's just get this over with," Rachel sighs, quietly climbing out of the car.

"That's not the attitude to have, Rachy," Brittany whispers loudly.

"I know, Britt," Rachel smiles. "But can we talk about it later?"

Brittany nods and skips back over to Noah's truck.

"Smile babe," Santana whispers. "It's your last prank ever."

Rachel nods and lets herself lean into Santana as they watch Mike and Noah attach the chute to the mixer, push it up the driveway and position it.

Knowing that their time is limited, everyone springs into action. Artie is running the mixer and he starts it up as Tina begins scooping in the Bisquick mix while Brittany adds the water. Once it's blended properly, Mike and Puck each grab a shovel and start throwing the extra thick batter onto the driveway. Meanwhile, Rachel and Santana each grab a concrete rake and begin smoothing the mixture out. As the driveway is covered, Kurt and Finn help Artie move the mixer backwards down the driveway while Quinn and Mercedes drag the still remaining water and Bisquick powder containers along as well.

Everyone had been skeptical when Rachel had explained the prank, but weirdly no one protested. For which Rachel is thankful; because in her mind, the over fifty pranks she successfully pulled are her defense. Not to mention, no one else offered any suggestions. Plus, it's simple enough to pull off on short notice, the most difficult thing to find being a cement mixer, but all that took was a call to Tommy Saunders. Noah was able to get a hold of the various needed tools while the others paired up and bought the Bisquick and jugs of water. The others _had_ questioned that decision, but Rachel pointed out that buying like sixty boxes of Bisquick at once would be probably look suspicious.

The whole process is a quiet team effort that takes a little over an hour. Rachel is pleased with their speed, while everyone else, except for Santana and Brittany, are surprised that Rachel didn't make them sing while they worked.

Once the entire sidewalk and driveway is covered, the tools are tossed back into the back of Noah's truck and the cement mixer is awkwardly lifted onto the truck bed by the guys.

Without another word, everyone climbs back into their vehicles and drives away.

**…**

They end up at Noah's house since Rachel doesn't want to risk running into her dads and his house is empty. And apparently they're having a party because there's a keg and Noah is toasting their efforts.

"I told you," he crows, holding up his half full plastic cup. "Fucking epic! That's how we do it. Figgins can go fuck himself!"

"Calm your tits, Puckerman," Santana retorts. "You're acting like it's your first time."

"Or the last, Lopez," Puck replies. "Gotta enjoy the high."

"That was damn fun," Finn exclaims. He plops down on the couch. "Totally awesome."

"You said it dude."

"And totally addicting," Finn adds.

Kurt groans. "You better not start pranking me now."

"No way Kurt," Finn says. "Your dad would kick my ass."

**…**

They end up emptying the keg; Puck says that it's a must.

"It's our last bash, guys," he tells them all.

"You say that like there won't be parties all summer," Brittany counters.

"Because what else is there to do in this hell hole?" Quinn adds.

"Why do you have to ruin all my fun?" Puck whines.

"Like I said," Quinn replies. "What else is there to do around here?"

Puck flips her off and goes to turn up the music.

**…**

Eventually no one's sober enough to go home and so people end up crashing on every bit of furniture or the floor.

**…**

Santana wakes up wrapped around Rachel on the couch. Everyone is passed out around the room. There's an odd weight on her legs and blinking to help focus, Santana raises her head and sees Brittany curled up in a ball at the other end of the couch. Santana's not sure how her best friend managed to sleep comfortably in such a small space, but figures all that beer helped.

Despite the hangover that's slowly making itself known, Santana is happy. High school is over, she has an entire summer of freedom in front of her, she's in love, she has her best friends to hang with all summer, not to mention that she and her fellow glee clubbers just pulled one more awesome prank. She definitely has no complaints.

Her shifting seems to have woken up Rachel, though.

"Too early," she mumbles. "Back to sleep, tiger."

Santana chuckles, making her head throb slightly. Though the sun is just barely up, Rachel is usually up by this time every morning. Her girlfriend must have drank more than Santana realized.

Deciding that Rachel's command is a good idea, Santana closes her eyes, relaxes around her girlfriend and lets herself all back asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Once again, thank you for reading and reviewing and favoriting and/or following. I _really _appreciate it. I would like to actually finish _Ambitions_, once I figure out what I want to happen. But for now, I will probably try and work on more deleted scenes. Anything you want to see, let me know.


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